


Winter's Bane

by TheDarkAgent



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Conspiracy, F/M, Hidden Affair, Investigations, Secret Relationship, Winter Romance, not a slow burn, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkAgent/pseuds/TheDarkAgent
Summary: Fresh from the battlefields of Ishval, Roy is invited to spend the winter at the Hawkeye estate. There he begins an illicit affair with his former master's daughter, who is arranged to be married to Lord Bradley in the spring. As their lives tangle together, they begin to uncover a conspiracy that threatens to ruin all they hold dear- including each other.Historical AU. Royai.
Relationships: Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang, Rebecca Catalina & Riza Hawkeye, Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 35
Kudos: 116





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic in years. My last one was abandoned on FF.net because Bleach not only ended terribly but Kubo confirmed that Ichigo and Rukia were never, will never and are never a couple and it just ruined on of my OTPs. So it is a good thing I am Royai trash. Please enjoy. :)

“Riza!” 

The sound of her name tore her concentration from the book in her lap. She turned to see her father standing in the doorway. 

“Yes, father?” 

“I’ve got good news,” he smiles and holds up a letter. From her chair, she cannot see who it is from. “Good news about a potential husband.” 

Riza struggled to make her sigh inaudible as she closed her book and turned to give her father his full attention as he made his way to the armchair directly to her left. 

“Lord Bradley is looking for a wife,” her father said with a smile. “And he is very interested in you.” 

“I thought Lord Bradley was married.” 

“He’s in the process of a divorce as we speak. His wife is no longer in her childbearing years and she has failed to produce an heir- male or otherwise. I received this letter today. He plans to attend Grumman’s party this weekend in hopes of meeting you.” 

“I see,” Riza replied, not fully knowing how to respond. “If that’s what you wish, I will meet with him.” 

“That’s very much what I wish,” her father said. 

“I understand, father.” 

“Good.” Berthold stood up from his seat, clearly uninterested in conversing with Riza beyond this topic of conversation. “I don’t think I have to stress how important this party is.” His voice was firm.

“I will not disappoint you, father.” 

“You better not,” he said sharply before leaving the room, paying no mind to Riza in front of the fire, consumed by her thoughts.


	2. Lord Bradley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grumman's party brings an unexpected visitor back into Riza's life and a new one in her future.

“I don’t know how you’re so calm about this. Lord Bradley is old enough to be your father. He might actually be older than your father.” 

“Rebeccaaa-” Riza groaned, collapsing on her bed. “Please don’t make this worse. Besides, it’s nothing more than an introduction. He simply wishes to speak to me.” 

“That’s not all he’s going to want to do once-”

“Rebecca! Not. Helping.”

“Fine,” Rebecca moved to sit beside Riza on the bed. “I just dislike seeing you in such a situation.” 

“I don’t like it either.” Riza sat up. “But what choice do I have, Rebecca? I’m not you. I don't have three older sisters to secure a future for my family. If my father wishes for me to meet Lord Bradley, then I must.” 

The two women sat in silence for a few moments, deep in thought. 

Rebecca broke the tension. “Well now, there’s no point dwelling on the unavoidable. We should get ready. Your father will want to leave on time.” She stood up and headed to vanity on the other end of the room, pulling Riza with her. She sat Riza down on the vanity’s bench and unclipped her friend’s long, blonde hair. She brushed it free of all tangles and then began to pin her hair up into a more elegant, evening fashion. 

“Maybe he won’t like me,” Riza said softly. She closed her eyes and leaned into Rebecca’s touch. “He’s one of the richest men in Amestris. Every man with an eligible daughter will be interested in replacing his wife.” 

“Do I need to remind you that you look just like your mother?” Rebecca said through a mouthful of hair pins. 

Riza could feel Rebecca’s nimble fingers working through her hair. “You're doing it again.”

“How? It’s not my fault Bradley courted your mother only for her elope with your father. I don’t see how that could make Bradley’s inquiring of you creepy at all.” Rebecca’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I mean- what if he tries to call you by her name. What if he’s into that?” 

“Stop it!” Riza yelled, admittedly half amused. “You’re making this creepy.” 

“It is creepy,” Rebecca laughed. She patted the top of Riza’s hair. “All done. A hairstyle fit for a lady of status.” 

“Thanks, Becca,” Riza stood up to switch Rebecca spots. “Hand me the brush?” 

“Here,” Rebecca gave her the brush and tilted her head back. “What am I going to do if you do go and get married to Bradley? He lives in Central.” 

“You can always visit.”

“Ow! Careful. The curls tangle easily,” Rebecca grimaced. 

“Sorry!” Riza lightened the pressure on her brush. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Rebecca said. “But seriously Riza, if you move to Central who am I going to complain to about my overwhelming lack of rich suitors?” 

“You’re welcome to trade me,” Riza gave Rebecca a mischievous smile as she twisted Rebecca’s long brown hair into an intricate bun. “Seriously. Trade me.” 

“If Bradley wasn’t so old.... OW! What was that for!” Rebecca jerked out of Riza’s grasp. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Riza dryly. 

“If I stop making fun of you, will you stop pulling my hair straight out of my skull?” 

“I think that can be arranged. I’m finished anyway. Just hand me the jeweled pin you brought. It’s laying on the vanity. There you go. All set.” 

“You want to know what would be the worst part of you moving away?” Rebecca asked.

“If I move away.”

“Okay if you move away. I’ll have to get ready for these events with my sisters. All three of them. So please do your best to come across as appalling tonight.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I will.” 

/-/-/

Riza despised formal events. They were much too pompous for her liking and the company much too fake. It had been easier to worm her way out of them when she was younger, but now that she was twenty years old and of marrying age, there was no getting out of these events. It was the only time her father gave her any real attention as he displayed her to society like a prized horse. Still, Riza was a proper woman with a formal boarding school education. She knew how to put on a fake smile and play the evening’s game, no matter how much she despised it. 

Their carriage pulled up to the Grumman Estate just after eight. Rebecca turned to thank Berthold for allowing her to get dressed with Riza and then promptly left to find her family, leaving Riza at the mercy of her father. 

“You look lovely tonight, Riza,” he said as he offered her his arm. “Blue is your color.” 

“Thank you, father,” she answered in the guarded tone she had perfected over the years. 

Gripping her father’s arm, they walked up the lawn to the main house. Grumman Manor was grand- far grander than the Hawkeye Estate. Two large, elegant staircases dominated the entrance way. To the left, twin french doors lead into the great room where the party was already in full effect, with men and women mingling about. Music and the murmurs of partygoers filled the air. 

“My darling!” A voice called out from across the room. 

Riza held back a groan and turned to find her grandfather walking towards her with open arms. “Hello, grandfather,” she said politely before being engulfed in a hug she did not ask for. 

“My dear, you are looking more and more like your mother with every passing year,” Grumman smiled at Riza as he inspected her outfit for the evening. “Yes, she would be very proud.” He then turned to her father and nodded in acknowledgement, all affection leaving his voice. “Berthold.” 

“General,” he answered, his dislike clear. 

“Lord Bradley has yet to arrive,” Grumman said. “I will make sure to inform you when he does.” He turned to Riza and smiled softly. “Enjoy the party my dear. I’m afraid I must say hello to my other guests, but please do make yourself at home.” 

Still holding onto her father’s arm, Riza followed him into the great room. Tables line the parameter of the dance floor and the serving staff weave through the mingling crowd offering endless libations. In one corner of the room is a small band, playing a lively tune. 

Riza spots Rebecca standing in the corner talking to a few other women their age. “I see Rebecca. May I go talk to her for a bit, father?” 

“Yes, Riza,” Berthold says. “But please stay close. I don’t want to track you down when Lord Bradley arrives.” 

“I will,” Riza said, letting go of his arm. She begins to head towards Rebecca when one of the servants stops her. 

“Would you like a glass of wine m’lady? Or champagne?”

Riza is normally not a drinker, but the dread from this evening has been unrelenting. “Yes, please.” She grabs one of the red wine glasses from the serving tray and smiles at the servant before walking away and quickly downing half the glass. 

“Hey, Riza!” 

“Hi ladies,” Riza said. “It’s nice to see you, Winry. I’m surprised your grandmother allowed you to come.” 

To her left, Winry grinned enthusiastically. “We came to a decision a few days ago. Now that I’m finally fifteen, she can’t expect me to stay home all the time.”

“Fifteen? Don’t say that again you are going to make me feel old,” Rebecca’s older sister, Lucy moaned. “Here I am, almost twenty-three and still unmarried.” 

“Twenty-three is not old,” Riza offered. 

“Oh hush, Mrs. Bradley,” Lucy said. “We don’t all have wealthy, successful men lining out the door.”

“No one is lining up for me.”

“So it’s true?” Winry asked, turning to Riza. “He really did come all the way from Central to meet you tonight?”

Riza chose to take a gulp of her wine instead of answer. 

“Yes it’s true,” Rebecca supplied on her behalf. “That man had a thing for Riza’s mother and once he sees how much you look like her-”

“Mrs. King Bradley,” Winry said with a sigh. “You’ll be one of the most important women in society.” 

“Winry, don’t be so naive. He’s old enough to be your grandfather. He shouldn’t have any interest in Riza to begin with,” Lucy said. 

“And yet here I am,” Riza frowned. 

“Let’s talk about something happy then,” Rebecca said, changing the subject. “Rumor has it Grumman made all his hot-shot military officers attend tonight. With the war over, maybe they are looking for a little fun.” 

“What are you going to do, Becca, talk their ear off?”

“Oh shut up, Lucy. I’m just saying that a handsome man in a uniform with a high enough rank can ask me for a dance any day.” 

Riza rolled her eyes. Of course Rebecca would be fixated on the young officers scattered about the room. They were decorated war heros and, more importantly, they were not tied to the stuffinest of high society. Rebecca could have her fun, Riza rationed as she buried any budding signs of envy, because Rebecca was the fourth daughter while Riza was the first and only. 

“I don’t know if I would want to be a soldier’s wife,” Winry said. “I’m not sure how well I would do sitting around waiting for them to return.” 

“Oh Winry,” Lucy said softly. “You’re still so young. Maybe by the time you’re of marrying age this country will no longer be at war.” 

“Speaking of men, however, has anyone caught your eye yet, Winry?” Rebecca asked playfully. “It is your first real party after all.” 

“No!” The younger girl said a little too quickly to be believable. “I mean- not really.”

“It’s okay, Winry,” Lucy said gently. “That’s the whole point of these events. So- who is it?”

Before Winry could stammer her reply, Riza heard her name being called out from behind her. She turned around to find her grandfather and father walking towards her. 

“Riza, darling, do you mine joining us for a while?” 

“Of course, father,” Riza answered with a fake smile. She quickly finished the rest of her wine and handed the empty glass to Rebecca. “If I don’t see you later, have a great rest of your night ladies.” 

The group offered Riza sympathetic smiles as she turned and began to follow her grandfather and father, her heart pounding. She could feel her mouth going dry and her palms growing clammy. 

“Lord Bradley just arrived,” Berthold said smugly when Riza had reached his side. “He’s waiting in your grandfather’s study. He prefers to meet you without all these prying eyes.” 

“You mean- alone?” Riza struggled to contain the nervousness in her voice. 

“Oh no, my dear,” answered Grumman. “That would be far too improper for a single woman like yourself to be in alone with a man.” 

Riza could not decide if it was for better or worse that her father and grandfather would be present. They were two people who deeply disliked each other and were only cooperating because they could mutually benefit from any marriage she entered. They were two vipers leading her to the snake pit. 

They reached the door to Grumman’s private study and Riza continued to follow her guardians. The study was grand, with bookshelves lining the walls and a large, floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the garden. Her grandfather’s collection of liquor was prominently on display atop a golden bar cart and the leather furniture smelled new. The large fireplace crackled in the background. To Riza’s surprise, his mahogany desk sat empty. Instead, the person of interest stood quietly to the left side of the window, sipping bourbon out of a crystal glass. Clearly, Grumman had met with Bradley before fetching Riza. Shivers ran down Riza’s spine at the idea of what they possibly could have discussed. 

“Lord Bradley,” Grumman spoke, breaking Riza’s train of thought. “May I introduce my granddaughter, Lady Riza Hawkeye.” 

Bradley turned to face Riza and she allowed herself to study him. He was a man in his late fifties- or perhaps early sixties- with graying hair and smile lines defining his face. Despite his age, he stood proud and tall, with broad shoulders and a build that suggested he still took much care to keep himself physically fit. He was dressed similar to Grumman, in his old military uniform. Though Bradley was no longer on active duty, Riza knew he still kept strong ties with the military as a consultant. 

“Awe Lady Hawkeye,” Bradley smiled. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

Riza held out her hand and grew nauseous when Bradley kissed it. “Sir.”

“Your daughter is lovely, Berthold. She absolutely takes after her mother.” 

Growing up in proper society had prepared Riza to hide her emotions and fake her smile with the best of them. She stood there, grinning shyly. To Bradley, she was a timid young woman, hesitant to meet her first potential suitor. Deep inside, hidden behind her thickest walls, Riza was disgusted at the idea that this man- who was certainly older than her father- was interested in such a young wife. 

“Please, why don’t we sit,” Grumman motioned to the unoccupied couch. “Would you like a drink, Berthold?”

“Yes, please.” 

The group took a seat, with Riza seated between her grandfather and father. Bradley sat down on a large armchair directly across Riza, his gaze never leaving her figure. 

“So your father tells me that you are quite the scholar,” Bradley offers as an icebreaker. 

“Yes sir,” Riza answers. “Father has blessed me with a proper education and it would be a lie to say I didn’t enjoy it.” 

“Which finishing school did you attend?” 

“The Amerstrian Academy for Ladies out in Central, sir. I graduated late last summer.” 

“Last summer? You would have thought that a woman of your status and grace would have been long married by now.” 

Riza averted her gaze, unable to watch Bradley objectify her any longer. 

“We are not in a rush to arrange my daughter’s marriage,” Berthold spoke, alleviating Riza from, having to come up with a response. “We want to ensure that the agreement will be most beneficial for all parties.” 

Oh great, thought Riza. Here she was, dressed up like a doll, being shown off to a man thirty years her senior, and all her father and grandfather were concerned about was how they would benefit from her marriage. 

Bradley’s attention turned to Grumman and Berthold. He began to ask the two men about their expectations, Riza’s dowry and, should he find her suitable, when would be the earliest they would be prepared to marry her. 

“It’s almost winter,” Grumman supplied. “We could have Riza walking down the aisle by late spring, but no sooner. After all, a union of the two families would be the event of the decade and we wouldn’t want anyone important to miss it due to bad weather.” 

“But of course,” Bradley agreed as he took a sip of his drink. He set the drink down on the small glass coffee table separating the parties. “Lord Berthold, General Grumman, if I may be frank, Riza’s reputation precedes her. I spoke with several of the governesses from her boarding school and they agreed that she is of sharp mind, clever wit and holds herself with utmost grace. My own eyes can indeed confirm that she exceeds these expectations. Unfortunately, I have business in the South that must be intended to immediately. Arranging my schedule to even be here tonight should be a testament to how serious I am regarding marrying your daughter. I plan to return to Eastern in a month’s time. I will spend the winter at my Eastern residence so we can become better acquainted and, in due time, work out the more intimate details of our continued relationship.” 

Riza’s heart sank at these words, but she pushed her feelings aside and forced her face to remain the neutral, soft smile she had held this entire conversation. 

“Of course sir,” Berthold responded, the glee obvious in his voice. 

“Now, if I may,” Grumman said. “I think we should rejoin the party. You’ve traveled a long way and a few bites of food would do you well, Bradley. I’m sure once you’ve made your rounds amongst the guests, Riza will be more than happy to entertain you for a dance.” 

“We really should be getting back.” Bradley stood up and looked at his pocket watch. “I shouldn’t keep Armstrong’s waiting too long. Riza, my dear, it was lovely to meet you. I will find you later tonight after the dancing has begun.” 

Riza offers Lord Bradley her hand again and he kisses it, but this time his lips linger on her skin. Her stomach twists and she barely manages to hide her discomfort. “I look forward to it, Lord Bradley.” 

The four exit the room and head back into the main hall where her male companions are quickly called upon by other guests, leaving Riza free to walk away. Once she is certain she is out of their site, the full range of her emotions flood her. He was interested in making her his wife as soon as this spring. Her days of freedom were numbers. While she and her father did not have the most loving relationship, he allowed Riza to keep to herself so long as she behaved when expected. As Bradley’s wife, she would be doomed to head the household and bear his children. She did not know which responsibility was worse. 

“I can’t breathe,” Riza gasped as panic raced through her veins. This was all happening too fast. It had only been yesterday that her father had mentioned that Bradley held any interest in her and now she was months away from being his bride. Her breath quickened and she began to feel overwhelmingly dizzy. She suddenly felt claustrophobic. She needed fresh air. She needed to be by herself. 

Riza headed out one of the doors she knew led to her grandfather’s balcony. Once outside, she wandered a bit until she was certain that no one from the party would dare venture this far. She felt herself collapse against the wall and tried to catch her breath, her hands cradling her face. Her dress would be wrinkled, and potentially dirty, but Riza found she did not care. 

She felt like screaming and crying, perhaps all at once. She closed eyes and tried to force herself to calm down. 

“Ma’am, are you alright?” 

Riza was torn out of her panic and began to stand up, determined to brush off her distress and face the intruder of her private moment. 

“Why yes I’m fi-” the words caught in her mouth before she froze as the man’s face came fully into view. 

“Oh, Lady Hawkeye, my apologies, I did not recognize you. If I may say, you’re all grown up.” The man said as he offered her a lopsided smile. 

“It’s nice to see you as well, Mister Mustang.”


	3. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy cannot refuse the invitation to stay at the Hawkeye manor for the upcoming winter. Meanwhile, Grumman questions his mental health and how much of Roy's troubles the boy is really hiding.

“Are you alright, Lady Hawkeye? You seem upset.”

“Oh yes,” Riza said, attempting to hide any distress in her voice. “I needed a moment of fresh air. These events can be overwhelming at times, that’s all.” 

“You don’t have to say that twice,” Roy said as he ran his fingers through his hair. He sank down to the floor and motioned for Riza to join him. She sat back down, taking the time to make sure her dress would be free from wrinkles.

“Are you not enjoying the party, Mister Mustang? My grandfather threw it to honor his most esteemed and valued officers.” 

“Sure,” Roy scoffed. “Honored my ass. I’m certain Grumman only invited me to show me off like the prized pony the military thinks I am. If one more military widow fawns over me, I’m going to throw up.” 

A small, but genuine, smile creeped across Riza’s face. “Surely it’s not that bad.” 

“With my promotion finalized, I am officially the youngest Lieutenant-Colonel in Amestrian history and your grandfather takes every opportunity he can to brag that it was his mentoring alone that got me here.” 

“What? My grandfather using other people to forward his own agenda? He would never!” Riza let out a laugh and for the first time all night she allowed herself to truly relax. She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands in her lap. “Congratulations on the promotion. You must be quite the soldier to be promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel at such a young age.”

“I’ve just a good strategist,” Roy said humbly, rubbing the back of his head with his left hand, disrupting his slicked back haircut. His bangs fell back towards his forehead and Riza smiled at the sight. He looked much more like her father’s young apprentice without the stiff hairstyle. “So how have you been Miss Hawkeye? I believe the last time we saw each other was three years ago when you were home from boarding school for summer break.” 

“Has it been that long since your last visit?” 

“I fear it has. There’s not a lot of opportunities for leave on the front lines. I’m quite surprised to see you here, if I am being honest. I figured you would have been made someone’s wife by now.” Roy watched as Riza’s face fell at his words. 

“I assure you, my father’s working on it.” Riza’s voice was bitter. “He and my grandfather introduced me to Lord Bradley earlier this evening.” 

“Lord Bradley?” Roy said bewildered as he sat up a little straighter. “Doesn’t he have a wife?” 

Riza shook her head. “They divorced. She never gave him a child so he’s on the market for a younger model.” 

“You’d make a fine Mrs. Bradley, if it’s of any comfort.” Roy offered her a genuine smile and reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. 

“Mustang! I know you’re out here somewhere! Hughes said he saw you walk onto the balcony.” 

The sound of General Grumman brought Roy and Riza’s conversation to a halt. Roy jerked his hand away from Riza’s as they quickly stood up to find the old man marching toward them. 

“Ah! Roy my dear, there you are. And my lovely granddaughter! Whatever are you two doing out here?” 

“I came to have a break from the crowd,” Roy supplied with a smile. “And Miss Hawkeye was kind enough to accompany me. We’ve been catching up.”

“Well, both of you have been sorely missed, so come on now. Hurry up.” Grumman motioned for them to follow him. The pair reluctantly followed him, abandoning their brief moment of respite. “There’s someone I would like you to meet, Mustang.”

They headed back inside. The party had picked up and couples crowded the dance floor. 

“Lord Bradley,” Grumman said as they walked over to where Bradley was still conversing with Riza’s father. “Allow me to introduce you to the officer I was telling you about. Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang, this is King Bradley.” 

Roy bowed slightly. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” 

“You as well,” Bradley politely replied back. “Grumman tells me you're an exemplary soldier.” 

“Grumman flatters, sir,” Roy said. “I merely try to do my best for this country.” He then turned to Berthold. “Master Hawkeye, it’s wonderful to see you again.” 

“Master?” Bradley inquired. 

“Ah, yes, Roy here was an apprentice of mine during his youth. The General and his guardian desired he have a proper education, bastard or not.” 

To his right, Riza was certain that Roy flinched slightly at the word “bastard” but, if anyone else had seen it, they made no mention of it. 

“That’s very generous of you, Berthold,” Bradley smiled. “Now I see how this young man is so successful. How can you not be with mentors such as yourself and the General?” 

“That’s too kind, sir,” Roy said.

“So tell me Roy,” Berthold said as he accepted a cup of wine from a passing servant. “Where are you currently staying?” 

“I’m staying with General Grumman for the weekend,” Roy answered. “I am currently on leave, sir. The military has graciously allowed me the winter to recover from the war. I was wounded and there’s still much improvement needed before I’m physically fit again.”

“You’ve been granted a full winter of leave so long as you continue to make these appearances,” Grumman grumbled. “And only if you heal properly.” 

“And after your stay with Grumman?” 

“I’m not certain. I may head back to Central to visit some friends or go South and unwind in the countryside.” 

“Nonsense, my boy!” Berthold clapped his hands on Roy’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly. “Stay with me. I would love an extra hand with the business. Winter is our busiest season and no one knows the intricacies better than yourself. Riza can have your old rooms prepared in a day’s time.” 

“I don’t want to impose-”

“You would be doing nothing of the sort,” Berthold said firmly. He let go of Roy’s shoulders and turned his body to face the group once more. “Besides, I could genuinely use the help.” 

Riza offered Roy a small smile as he turned to accept Berthold’s offer. 

“Then it’s settled,” Grumman said. “I’ll send Roy over to your Estate on Monday.” He turned to Bradley. “Are you sure we cannot persuade you to stay in town longer than tomorrow?” 

Bradley shook his head. “I sincerely wish I could,” he said as his eyes roamed over Riza’s figure. “But I must handle my business affairs before winter makes traveling difficult. Now, if you gentlemen do not mind, I would love it if Miss Hawkeye would accompany me for a dance.” He offered her his arm.

“It would be my pleasure, Lord Bradley,” Riza said. She accepted his arm and allowed herself to be escorted onto the dance floor. She sighed internally. It was going to be a long night. 

/-/-/

Riza frowned. For the third time this evening, she caught herself staring aimlessly at the blank page of her open journal before her. 

Riza faithfully journaled every evening before retiring to bed. She had developed a habit of making a pot of tea, sitting down at her desk and consciously gathering her thoughts from the day’s events. As a young girl, journaling had helped her cope with the untimely death of her mother and the growing neglect from her father as he allowed himself to be consumed by his work. But tonight, Riza found no words to fully capture her feelings. 

Her father had practically pranced into the dining room for breakfast, still elated from their successful conversation with Bradley the night before. Riza, exhausted after a long night of restless sleep and unrelenting thoughts, barely had the energy to keep up with the conversation, let alone engage with it. Her father did not seem to notice her one-word answers and incomplete thoughts. He was too caught up on the fact that Lord Bradley had found Riza much to his satisfaction. 

“Riza, my dear, I’ve never been more proud,” he beamed over his coffee. “You will take this family far.” 

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her eyes focused on the patterned wallpaper to her left. She half-heartedly took a bite of her food, forcing herself to swallow. 

“Spring can’t come soon enough,” Berthold continued. He placed his elbows on the tables, clapped his hands together and rested his chin on his fingers. “You will make the most beautiful bride- just like your mother.” 

“Yes,” was all Riza replied. 

Berthold had spent the rest of the meal endlessly elaborating on Riza’s future status, the privilege it would grant her and the connections it would bring him. He rattled on and on, never making eye contact with Riza or bothering to truly engage her. If he noticed her wandering gaze or lack of appetite, he said nothing. When her father’s personal secretary hesitantly interrupted their meal, Riza had to stop herself from visibly sighing in relief as her father bid her goodbye and left for his office. 

“Numb,” Riza mumbled to herself as she brought her teacup to her lips. She dipped her pen in ink and wrote the word in her journal. “I am numb and that is all there is to write. Barring a miracle, by this time next year I will be Bradley’s wife.”

Bradley’s wife. The words look foreign-menacing even- written out in her delicate script. She sighed again before closing her journal for the evening and hiding it in the bottom of her desk drawer. She closed her eyes and fought the lone tear that threatened to fall. She stood up and shook her head before retiring to bed.

I will not allow my spirit to be broken this easily, Riza thought with an iron finality. I will not. 

/-/-/

“That’s a risky move, my boy.” 

Roy looked up from the chessboard and at his opponent. Grumman was smiling at him, a small twinkle in his eye. “No risk, no reward,” Roy offered back. 

Grumman made his next move without hesitation. Roy countered swiftly, moving his knight and taking out Grumman’s last bishop. 

“I’ll admit, I did not expect that,” Grumman said. “Clever on the battlefield and clever in competition. You are a fine officer.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Roy answered back politely. He twiddled his thumbs as he waited for Grumman to make the next move. “I don’t believe I’ve properly thanked you for your hospitality, both this weekend and at the lovely party.” 

“No need my boy. Generals must keep up their appearances, stuffy parties and all. Your present simply alleviates my need to entertain everyone since I can have you do that for me. Although, I am rather pleased with my granddaughter’s introduction to Lord Bradley.” 

“Do you think he will marry her?” Roy asked. 

“I do. He had courted her mother back when she was about Riza’s age. This was before he began manufacturing weapons for the government, of course, but he still had a strong family name. I was thrilled about the match, but as you know, she ran off and eloped with Berthold of all people instead.” He grimaced at the mention of his son-in-law. “Riza looks just like her mother. If I know Bradley as well as I believe I do, he will marry Riza come spring.” 

“Allow me to prematurely congratulate you and your family,” Roy said with earnest. “This should be quite advantageous for all parties.” 

“But of course.” Grumman gave a mischievous grin. “Bradley will have his wife and hopefully an heir. Berthold’s land and estate will have the financial security he craves. And I, my boy, will have a personal ‘in’ with the single largest military contractor in Amestris. There’s no downside, in my opinion.” 

“And Riza?” 

“Riza will have the satisfaction that she brought honor and status to her family. She will never want for anything again,” Grumman looked at Roy. “Riza is a woman of duty.” 

“It’s a most admirable trait.” 

“It is indeed. Speaking of duty, I am optimistic that you will be fit to return to active duty come early March. Although… has your condition improved since our last discussion?”

Internally, Roy prayed that his face had remained as neutral. To Grumman, his hesitation spoke volumes. 

“That bad?” The General removed his glasses and began to shine them with a small cloth he retrieved from his pocket. 

Roy shrugged as he attempted to downplay Grumman’s source of concern. “It’s manageable.” 

“Manageable or not, you need to find a solution. No respectable officer wakes up in the middle of the night screaming,” Grumman’s voice was firm, but a layer of genuine worry remained. He placed his glasses back on his face and leaned forward to be closer to Roy. “I understand the difficulty of getting over shell-shock. I myself struggled with it back when I was your age. But there is a reason you were selected for this promotion above all the others. Your mind is sharp, my boy. You see the battlefield in ways that our senior officers and enemies alike do not. I do hope that you will be able to resolve the problem over the course of your winter leave. You are far too valuable to Amestris to be medically discharged.” 

“This is my main priority, sir, and part of why I accepted Berthold’s invitation to stay for the winter. I hope staying busy with work unrelated to the military will allow myself time to recover.” Roy kept his gaze fixated on the chessboard between the two men. “I am honored I was even considered for this promotion to begin with, General. Without your intelligence and expertise, I’m not sure I would be this far ahead at my age.” 

“Oh please, stop diverting” Grumman snorted. “I invited the art of flattery. You’ll have to do better than that to charm me.” 

“I suppose so,” Roy smiled softly. “Permission to speak freely sir?” 

“Granted.”

“I fully understand the lengths you had to go to grant me such a generous leave and for that I truly thank you. I’m afraid I may have been too idealistic and naive when I first joined the military. War has hardened me, albeit reluctantly. Once I’ve improved my mentality, I will be the best officer to ever serve under your command.” 

“I sure hope so,” Grumman said as he leaned back in his chair. “You are a fine officer. It would be a shame to keep you on desk duty for the rest of your career. The sooner you get these night terrors in check, the sooner you can really start going places.” The serious tone of their conversation quickly disappeared as Grumman took a moment to contemplate his next move, muttering softly to himself. He reluctantly moved his rook to the right, grimacing as Mustang quickly removed the piece from the board. “Are you all packed to move to Berthold’s?”

“Yes sir, I gave the servant my bags before joining you for this game,” Roy answered. A smirk flashed on his face as he surveyed the chessboard. 

“I apologize for not extending the invitation myself, but I reasoned you would rather avoid all the members of senior staff that visit these halls until you are cleared for active duty.” Grumman was correct and Roy told him as much. “However, I do enjoy our chess matches. What would you say about making this a weekly appointment? It will allow you to update me on your recovery as well. Checkmate.” 

“What?” Roy’s voice was laced with confusion. All traces of his smile vanished. “How? How did you just beat me?” 

“You may be a prodigy, but I’m still the master,” Grumman said with glee. He placed his chin on his hands and peered over his glasses to Roy. “Monday’s at three. I’ll send a carriage over to Berthold’s so you don’t have to bother my insufferable son-in-law with arranging one yourself. If he gives you grief, direct him to me.” 

Defeated from his blind sighted loss, Roy stood up and moved to exit the room. At the doorway, he turned and gave his commanding officer a sharp salute. “See you next Monday at three, sir.” 

He left the room, leaving Grumman to contemplate how honestly Roy had answered his question about his condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve seen so portrayals of Grumman where he is shown through rose-colored glasses. While I do think he’s a good guy, Grumman is someone who constantly weighs the personal benefits of something before providing his support and I do think that’s really important to keep.


	4. Friendly Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy moves into his new home for the winter and finds that not much has changed, including his friendship with his Master's daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact. Did you know the canon age difference between Roy and Riza is 4 years? I kept that here because it worked for what I needed. Also, this is set in the 1890s, so while it is still limited to the rich or well off, there was running water, electricity and the telephone (local calls only). Enjoy!

“Pull!” 

The clay pigeon flew into the air temporarily suspended in time, before abruptly shattering into pieces. 

“Excellent shot, Lady Hawkeye.” 

Riza turned towards the source of the compliment. Milton, the Hawkeye’s groundskeeper, was smiling at her. 

“Thank you.” 

“It seems like only yesterday you were begging your father to allow you to take shooting lessons,” Milton said fondly. “And now, you’re weeks away from your marriage announcement. Where does the time go?”

Riza ignored his statement. “I think that’s enough for this morning, Milton. You can put the trap away. I need to go ensure that Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang’s rooms are ready for his arrival. My grandfather is supposed to send him over mid-afternoon.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Milton said. He walked over to Riza and offered his hand. She placed her shotgun in his open palms. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Riza smiled. 

The fall air was crisp, flushing Riza’s cheeks with color as she headed back towards the manor. For the first time in three days, Riza felt calm. Shooting was the best stress reliever she knew. When she was at the shooting range, everything else in her world vanished. Nothing brought her more satisfaction or peace than watching her bullet hit target after target. 

Internally, she hoped that Bradley would allow her to continue practicing her hobby once married. 

Riza opened the back door to the manor and took a moment to appreciate the warmth that swept over her. The days had been growing colder and she was certain the first snowfall of the season was mere weeks away. She continued down the hall and to the left towards the guest quarters. They had not been occupied for an extended period since Mustang’s last visit and Riza’s father had asked for her to ensure they were properly prepared for his stay. 

She found the maids scurrying about, rushing to finish some last minute touches. A fire roared in the bedroom’s large fireplace and the bed sheets smelled of starch. No doubt they had been freshly pressed earlier in the morning. 

“Good morning, Miss,” one of the maids said from across the room. “We will be finished and out of your hair shortly. The linens are new, the room has been dusted and the rug beaten. It should be up to Mr. Mustang’s standards, but please let me know if there is anything else you would like us to do to prepare for his arrival.” 

“Please don’t rush on account of me,” Riza said, smiling at the women. “My father requested I check on the progress, but I find this room much to my satisfaction.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said the second maid as she plumped one of the bed’s pillows. “We are sure Mr. Mustang will be content. He has never been a hard one to please.” 

“It’s Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang now,” Riza corrected softly. He must have done something impressive to earn the title at twenty-four and it was only proper to respect his merits. 

“My apologies, the Lieutenant-Colonel should be most pleased,” the maid stated. She finished with her primping and moved to gather the basket of supplies that was sitting on the floor besides her. “We will be leaving now. Please call us if you or the Lieutenant-Colonel should need anything.” 

The two women left the room, curtseying respectfully before closing the door. Riza wandered through the suite, double checking that everything was as Lieutenant-Mustang preferred, though she had full faith in her staff. 

Roy’s favorite teapot, deep red with matching cups, sat on the left hand side of the oak desk in the corner of the room. Three small tins sat adjacent to the porcelain teapot filled with his favorite loose leaf teas. Vanilla candles had been placed in the silver holders throughout the room. She opened the closet to find an extra down blanket perfectly folded- Roy had always preferred to sleep bundled up. 

Once she was satisfied that no small detail had been forgotten, Riza exited the room, leaving the doors slightly ajar. It had been too long since the suite had been occupied and the fresh circulation of air would do the space some good. 

She found her timing perfect. She had barely made her way to the manor’s main entrance when the doors opened and her new houseguest walked in with two of Grumman’s servants following him and carrying a small collection of luggage. 

He looked exhausted. Riza’s eyes focused on the dark circles underneath both of his own. Surely they hadn’t been there this past weekend. She would have noticed them at the party. 

Despite the clear exhaustion on his face, he smiled wide as he made eye contact. 

“Good morning, Lady Hawkeye.” He gave her a slight bow. 

“Please, there’s no need for that,” she said, shaking her hands in the air. “Not if you plan to stay here all winter, Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang.” 

“Well, if that’s the stance we are taking, please call me Roy- or Mister Mustang if you must,” he said quickly before she could open her mouth to protest. “Lieutenant-Colonel is a mouthful.” 

“Well then allow me to show you to your room, Mister Mustang,” Riza said with a small smile. “My father does apologize he was unable to greet you this morning. He is away at meetings until the late afternoon. He requests that you join him in his study after dinner. I’m sure you remember where that is?” She turned to guide him to the guest quarters.

“I remember where the guest suite is, as well, Lady Hawkeye. There’s no need to trouble yourself.” 

Riza looked over her shoulder towards him. “Formalities aside, I insist. I don’t believe we’ve had a proper guest since your apprenticeship ended. We certainly haven’t since I finished boarding school. Besides, it’s nice to have someone other than the staff or my father to talk too.” 

They entered Roy’s room. The two servants carrying his luggage set them down on the bed before asking if there was anything Roy further required before they returned to Grumman’s Estate. Roy thanked them earnestly and insisted he had everything he needed, wishing them well before they left the room. 

Riza’s eye traveled to the small collection of luggage sitting on the floor by the doorway. “Would you like me to call our maids to help you unpack?” 

Roy waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not above putting away my own clothing.” 

“Well, would you like some help?” 

Roy smiled at her offer. “If you’d like.” He pointed towards one of the larger pieces of luggage in the group. “That should have all of my uniform and suit jackets in it. Would you mind hanging them in the closet?” 

Riza nodded and moved to pick up the luggage. It was heavier than she thought and Roy let out a small laugh at her struggle. 

“Want some help?” 

“What do you have in here?” She asked, half serious. “Chainmail?” 

“Honestly, that might be more comfortable. Whoever thought blue wool was a good choice for a desert war should be tried for a war crime.” To Riza’s frustration, Roy picked up the suitcase with ease, carrying it across the room and placing it on a chair beside the window and close to the closet. 

Riza laughed lightly as she opened up the suitcase. She pulled the top article out and reached for the empty hangers in the closet. It was Roy’s dress uniform, freshly pressed. Grumman’s staff had undoubtedly cleaned the jacket after the party. Riza held the jacket out for a moment, admiring the rows of buttons, medals and awards that lined the chest and shoulders. She didn’t notice Roy’s gaze settle on her from across the room. 

“Purple Heart?” She pointed to one of the pins. 

Roy shrugged. “Explosion. Compared to many of my men, I was lucky. My wound is superficial.” Roy watched as Riza’s eyes looked up and down his figure, silently searching for signs of his injury. “It’s on my waist. Left side. It’s a good quarter of my torso but the burn is no longer raw or overly tender.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m fine, honestly.” Roy flashed her a dazzling smile. He could feel her concern radiating from her and desperately wished to relieve her of it. 

“I knew you were on leave for an injury, but I didn't know how severe.” 

Roy turned his back from Riza and opened one of the dresser’s drawers. He began to pull cotton shirts out of one of the suitcases. “I’m expected to make a full recovery.” 

That was all he would offer. He didn’t need his master’s daughter knowing about his mental health. 

Luckily, Riza did not ask any further questions. She stopped staring at the uniform, finally hanging it up in the closet before turning her attention to the rest of the bag. The two worked in comfortable silence organizing Roy’s belongings until he was unpacked. 

“Okay!” Riza announced as she clapped her hands together. “I believe that was the last of it.” 

“Thank you for the help, Lady Hawkeye.” 

“Is there anything else you need?” 

“No, I should be set. Is dinner still served at 6:00?” 

“Same time, same place.” She moved to leave when she felt Roy’s hand on her arm. She turned to him, confused. 

“It may be rude of me to ask, but do you have time to play a game of chess before cleaning up for dinner? I realize I’m not aware of your schedule.” Roy smiled meekly. The reality was he enjoyed Riza’s company and the memories of the war had been taking root in his mind since their conversation about his injury. A friendly game of chess would distract him enough to prevent any lingering panic attacks from creeping up on him once he was alone. He pulled his chessboard out from the drawer he had placed it in a few minutes prior and headed over to the small sitting area by the fireplace. 

“Ladies, first.” Riza replied with a smile as she went to join him. 

/-/-/

“You should have seen how mortified our headmistress was,” Riza giggled. “The letter was quite scandalous and Rebecca had no remorse. Madame Herschell even telegraphed Lord Catalina.” 

The two were still sitting by the fire, the chess game long finished after Roy had taken advantage of Riza’s inexperience. They were sharing a pot of tea as they exchanged stories and catching up with each other. 

“And what did he do?” Roy asked. 

“Nothing,” Riza rolled her eyes. “Rebecca is his sweet, darling, precious baby. Her father will overlook just about everything- including her kissing the banker’s son. You should have seen the smug look on her face the next morning at breakfast.”

“Sounds like boarding school was a lot more entertaining than I would have guessed.” 

“There has to be something more to life than practicing your manners and perfecting your penmanship,” Riza said. She gave him a sly smile over her teacup. “And what about you? I’m sure you have plenty of stories from the military.” 

“Not many I’m willing to share with a young lady.” Roy refilled his cup and motioned to Riza. She held out her own, allowing him to fill it before she began protesting. 

“That’s not fair! I told you my stories.”

“Yes, but if you think Rebecca being fondled is scandalous I can only imagine how you would react to mine,” Roy laughed. 

“There isn’t any at all you’d share? What kind of company do you keep in the military?”

“The male kind.” 

Riza smiled at Roy softly. She was enjoying sitting by the fire, exchanging playful banter and stories. Aside from Rebecca’s visits, it had been a long time since she had had anyone near her age at the manor. Her staff, while lovely, still maintained a level of professionalism within their conversations. At his best, her father would join her for meals. At his worst, they would go days without exchanging a word. 

When Roy had first started his apprenticeship, she had been too young to view him as a friend. As they grew older, their age gap seemed less significant and in the final years of his apprenticeship, she looked forward to his company when she returned home from school for holiday. There was an ease with him that she didn’t experience with most men. She appreciated his ability to listen and valued his treatment of her as an equal. 

“Oh alright,” Roy sighed, giving in. “There was this one time- please never say anything to him if you meet him- but there was this one time where my best friend Hughes and I were at a bar in downtown Central. We were still in the military academy and maybe… oh, I don’t know, nineteen? Anyway, this beautiful woman comes onto Hughes and he is so drunk and so eager. He ends up following her home, only for her to demand money as soon as he had his pants around his ankles. She was a working girl and his drunk ass had no idea! He was mortified. Hughes ended up paying her a third of her rate because she wouldn’t leave him alone and accused him of wasting her time.” 

“Why didn’t you warn him?” Riza declared, clearly amused. “You grew up in a brothel!”

Roy shrugged. “I thought he knew. He’s a grown man and perfectly capable of making his own decisions. At least he’s now happily married so it won’t happen again.” 

“If that’s a tame story, I can only imagine the others,” Riza teased. “I am almost a married woman, Mister Mustang. I’m sure I can handle it- no matter how provocative.” 

Roy raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ve grown up, Lady Hawkeye.” 

“That tends to happen when you don’t visit for years.” 

“I’ve been busy fighting a war.” 

“And I’ve been busy fighting off suitors. I’m not sure which is more terrifying,” Riza’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Have there been many?” Roy asked casually. 

“Yes and no. Supposedly, many have inquired, but Lord Bradley is the only one my father has taken a serious interest in,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Riza stood up from her chair and gathered the empty teapot and cups on the serving tray and walked them over to a small side table to be collected by the maids. Instead of sitting back in her seat, she sat down on the floor, back up against her chair. She pulled her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. “And so, Lord Bradley it shall be.” 

Her melancholy pained Roy. He moved to join her on the floor, offering his hand for comfort. She intertwined her fingers with his and he gave her hand a brief squeeze. 

“I’m sure you will be well taken care of,” Roy said softly. “Your entire family will be.” 

“How do you know?” Her words were so quiet if Roy hadn’t been listening, he may not have heard them over the crackle of the fire. “His last wife couldn’t bear children. What if that happens to me? What if I fail him? Is he going to divorce me too?” 

“That won’t happen.” 

“You can’t promise that.” She looked at Roy before averting her gaze. “I’ve never been with a man, let alone tried to bear him children. What if something goes wrong? My mother died in childbirth and my brother was a stillborn.” 

“You’ve never been with a man?” The words escaped Roy’s mouth before he could stop them. 

Riza let go of his hand and pulled away from him, her posture growing rigid. She tilted her head towards him, eyes wide with disbelief. “That’s what you took from this conversation?” 

Roy could feel his cheeks turning red. He shifted uncomfortably. “It just… surprised me. That’s all.” 

“Well, excuse me, Mister Mustang, but I believe that’s none of your business.” He could not tell if Riza’s expression was angry or amused. “Besides, what am I supposed to do? Hide my lover under my skirt and sneak him up the stairs? Open my window so he can crawl up the balcony late at night when my father’s asleep?” She snorted. 

“I see your point.” 

Riza stood up and looked down at Roy still on the floor, a small smile on her face. She enjoyed seeing him squirm with embarrassment. “Now if you excuse me, Mister Mustang, I just looked at the time. It’s getting late. I must head back upstairs to wash up for dinner.” She headed toward the door to his suite, pulling one open before stopping and turning back to look at Roy, who was still sitting dumbfounded on the floor by the fire. “No hard feelings, I hope?” She winked at him. 

He relaxed, genuinely relieved that she wasn’t truly angry at him for invading her privacy. “I should be asking you that, really. I’ll see you at dinner Lady Hawkeye.” 

/-/-/

Roy entered the dining room to find that he was the first to arrive. The Hawkeye formal dining parlor was small, reflecting the family’s tendency to avoid hosting large gatherings. Keep the people out of our personal affairs, Berthold had explained when Roy had inquired about their lack of entertaining when he had first arrived. Part of Roy believed him. Berthold was a notoriously private man who kept his business partners close, his enemies closer and the wall around his heart impenetrable. Another part of Roy thought that, perhaps, Berthold never hosted lavish events because he was rather unliked in the community and knew most people would decline an invitation. 

The dining room table could sit six but was set for four. Maybe Berthold was bringing a business partner, Roy thought. Or, worse, Grumman was making an appearance to continue celebrating Riza’s successful introduction to Lord Bradley. 

His question was answered when the door to the dining room opened and Riza walked in, Rebecca at her side. 

“Mr. Mustang,” Riza smiled, any awkwardness between them confidently gone. “You remember my best friend, Rebecca Catalina?” 

“Yes, I believe I do,” he flashed Rebecca a charismatic grin. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lady Catalina.” 

Catalina offered Roy her hand, but rolled her eyes at his greeting. 

Roy took a seat in his old spot to the right of Master Hawkeye. Across the table, Riza and Rebecca sat down quietly giggling to each other about a joke Roy had not caught. 

“You’re shorter than I remember,” Rebecca said, looking Roy straight in the eye. 

“Rebecca!” Riza exclaimed. “He’s our guest!”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “He’s your father’s guest, Riza.” 

“It’s-” 

Before Roy was able to finish his rebuttal, the door opened once again. Berthold stomped in, making no effort to hide his bad mood. He didn’t bother to greet Riza, but paused when his gaze found Roy’s. Instantly, his mood shifted. 

“Mustang!” Berthold said almost joyfully. “I almost forgot you were joining us today.” He motioned to the servant in the corner of the room to begin serving their food. 

“Thank you again for the hospitality,” Roy said earnestly. “I am looking forward to working under you again, even if it’s only a few months.”

“I take it my daughter had your rooms prepared to your satisfaction?” Berthold asked, speaking as though Riza wasn’t in the room, let alone in the seat to his direct left. 

Roy observed as Rebecca and Riza lowered their gazes and began to quietly eat the chicken that had been placed in front of them moments before. They moved with a silent agreement to attract as little attention as possible, a well-practiced dance. 

“My room is perfect, thank you,” Roy said as he took the cue from Riza’s body language to not pull her into the conversation. “I hope your meetings went well today.”

“As well as can be expected,” Berthold answered as he cut into his meal. “Winter business is beginning to pick up. I’m going to need you in the office by eight tomorrow morning. We are traveling into town to meet a client. I have a feeling she will take a liking to you before she takes a liking to me, so bring the charm.” 

Roy did not want to think about the implications of that statement. Across the table, Rebecca and Riza both smiled subtly into their laps. 

The rest of the meal continued in a similar fashion. Berthold engaged Roy in various topics of conversation, eager to hear anything his former apprentice had to say. Not once during the meal did Berthold direct his attention to his daughter. Internally, Roy frowned. Despite years passing since his last family dinner at the Hawkeye Estate, little had changed. Berthold still preferred Roy’s company and Riza had only further perfected the art of staying seen but unnoticed. 

After a decadent dessert of strawberries and crème, Berthold announced he was retiring for the night. He wished Roy a goodnight before turning to Riza for the first time that evening. 

“Goodnight, my future Mrs. Bradley.” 

Berthold’s back was turned before he could notice the look of disgust that consumed Riza’s eyes.


	5. Another Chess Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza and Roy have dinner without the oppressive presence of Berthold. Roy asks Riza to accompany him into the city the follow day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a beta, so please let me know if there are any major errors.

“Why didn’t you say your dad’s apprentice was so attractive!” 

Riza looked up from the embroidery in her lap. “What?” 

“Your dad’s apprentice is a dream, Riza! You can’t say you’ve never noticed. I won’t believe you.” Rebecca bowed her head to focus on the intricate detailing of her own pattern, a smirk on her face. 

“I’ve known him since he was fifteen and lankier than a newborn calf,” Riza replied.

“That was years ago. There’s no way you don’t find him attractive, Ri. Even I find him attractive.”

“I’ll admit he’s good looking,” Riza said as she continued to work her needle through the cotton fabric in her hands. “But didn’t you say he was short?”

“Oh, you know me. I like watching important men squirm,” Rebecca giggled. “Hand me the shears, will you?”

“Here,” Riza said, handing Rebecca the scissors. “But it doesn’t matter if he’s good looking. He’s working for my father and I’m apparently going to be the next Mrs. Bradley- remember?” 

“I wasn’t asking for you. I was asking for me.”

“Oh,” Riza had to strain to keep her voice even. 

“Will you reintroduce me? Properly this time?”

“Um, yeah... Sure.” A flicker of disappointment flashed over Riza’s expression.

“HA! I knew it!” Rebecca jumped out of her seat, startling Riza mid-stitch and driving the needle straight into her thumb.

“What the hell Rebecca!” Riza screamed as pulled the needle out of her skin and began to suck on the wound. “What was that for?”

“I knew you liked him!” Rebecca pointed to Riza. “I knew it!” 

“I do not, Rebecca,” Riza said, wincing at the small puncture wound in her finger. 

“Oh, really, then why were you so startled?” 

“I don’t know- maybe because you hopped out of your seat like you saw a ghost! Do you have a handkerchief? I seem to have pricked my thumb rather well.” 

Rebecca pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and walked over to Riza to inspect her injury. She wrapped the cloth around her thumb tightly. “There. The pressure should stop the bleeding. Don’t worry if the blood stains.” She then sat back down, her needlework abandoned and looked Riza in the eyes. “You don’t expect me to believe you lack feelings for him, do you?” 

Riza rolled her eyes. “Rebecca, I’ve known him since I was eleven.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?”

“Mister Mustang has always treated me with the professional respect expected of an apprentice. That’s all.” 

“But you two are friends,” Rebecca corrected. “I saw how he picked up on your signals at dinner. He seemed to be able to read you well.”

“Sure,” Riza sighed. With her non-injured hand, she twirled the parts of the handkerchief that were not wrapped around her thumb. “We are friends. I enjoy his company and conversation. But that’s all Rebecca. Mister Mustang has never implied that he sees our relationship as anything else and neither have I.” 

“I thought he was a Lieutenant-Colonel?”

“He is, but he requested I don't use his rank outside of military functions. It’s a mouthful- oh don’t give me that look,” Riza admonished. “I have no doubt he would insist on you calling him Mister Mustang as well.” 

“Why can’t you just admit you like him?”

“Because I don’t. Maybe when I was fourteen, but I’m twenty years old and if my father has his way, I’ll be a married woman soon. This conversation is inappropriate and dangerous, Rebecca.” Riza’s voice was firm and quiet. 

Rebecca knew that Riza would not elaborate any further on the matter. Her best friend had a valid point. Riza Hawkeye was as off-limits in society as she could be without a formal engagement announcement. Still, Rebecca’s heart rippled with sadness as she noticed the subtle sigh Riza let out before undressing her thumb and focusing back on her stitching. 

/-/-/

Two weeks went by and Roy found himself buried in his work with Master Hawkeye. After he successfully negotiated a new contract with Ms. Lavender- who managed to slip into the conversation that she was newly widowed not once, but three times- Berthold had given Roy a list of clients throughout East City to call upon. Luckily, most of them were men. Growing up in the back of a bar had blessed Roy with outstanding charisma and charm. While Berthold had as many social skills as a snake, Roy easily smiled his way into renewing contract after contract for the factories Berthold owned. 

“You’ve done exceptionally well, my boy,” Berthold praised as he poured the pair a glass of scotch. Roy took a seat at the end of the desk, eagerly accepting the midafternoon drink. The liquor stung Roy’s throat but he quickly finished his glass nonetheless. “I have a dinner appointment with the Doctors Rockbell tonight. I was going to ask you to accompany me, but I don’t want to run you ragged. Take the evening off. Tomorrow as well. You’ve earned it.” He refilled Roy’s glass with a generous pour. 

“Thank you, sir,” Roy said with a nod. “It might be nice to take the day to visit some friends in the city.” 

“A well-deserved day off,” Berthold said, the closest he would get to a smile on his face.

“Is there anything else you’d like me to do before I retire before dinner?” 

“No, you’re free to go. Enjoy your evening Mustang.” 

/-/-/

Roy entered the dining room to find Riza had beaten him to the table. Her father must have informed her he would be skipping dinner because she had not bothered to dress up for the meal. She looked up at him from the other side of the table and smiled. 

He had been so consumed with work since moving in that they only interacted during meals. With Roy’s return to the manor, Berthold began to regularly attend dinner, leaving Riza to spend her evening quietly eating as she listened to her father engage his former apprentice with all matters of business. He was less likely to join them for breakfast and Roy had found that his meals with only Riza were his favorite. 

He decided it was because she didn’t spend the entire time talking about war, business or social affairs. Riza would chat with him about the weather, her shooting and the letters he would receive from his sisters. Grumman spent their chess matches both lecturing Roy on his recovery and praising him for his potential. Berthold would boast about Roy’s nack for the business the entire meal. Riza… Riza just expected him to be himself. 

“How was work today?” Riza asked once he had sat down. 

“Exhausting,” Roy answered honestly. 

“Any widows?” 

“No, thankfully.” Roy playfully shuddered. 

“Why are middle age women so into you?” Riza asked, a small smile crossing the corner of her mouth. 

“If you can figure it out please let me know so I can make sure to never do it again.” He flashed her a lopsided grin. “Your father was kind enough to give me tomorrow off.” 

“Nice to hear he loosened the chains.” 

They made eye contact for a moment before quickly averting their eyes and focusing on their meal. The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as they devoured the pot pie prepared by the Hawkeye family cook. 

How did Bradley get lucky enough that he will soon get to spend every night with Riza, sitting at the dinner table and throwing playful banter around? 

Roy flinched at this daunting realization. His reaction was far from subtle and he held his breath and waited for Riza to ask what was on his mind that caused him to outright jerk. Luckily, she didn’t. 

“Have you ever thought of leaving the military and coming to work for my father full time?” Riza asked, breaking the silence. “He would hire you as an associate in a heartbeat.”

“No,” Roy answered. He could see her surprise at his words so he elaborated. “I’m grateful for everything your father taught me, but you can’t change the world managing factories and negotiating contracts.” 

“Is that what you were doing in Ishval?” 

Roy knew she meant well with her question, but this time, she noticed when he flinched. 

“I’m sorry, Mister Mustang. Did something I say upset you?”

“No. The war is just difficult to talk about,” he frowned. “It wasn’t glamourous and it certainly wasn’t bettering our world. No, if anything Ishval has made me more determined to crawl up the ranks and create real change in Amestris.” 

“You’ve always been ambitious.” Her words were confident, but her voice wavered, afraid of upsetting him again. She finished her meal and placed her utensils on her plate. “There’s carrot cake for dessert. I baked it myself.”

As if on cue, a member of the household staff entered the room to whisk away their dinner plates and replace them with a slice of carrot cake and a cup of coffee with cream. 

“This is delicious,” Roy said as he shoved the cake into his mouth. He motioned to the servant for another slice. “Almost as good as your pies.” 

“Father doesn’t like when I bake, so I decided to take advantage of his absence,” Riza said as she took a bite herself. 

“He doesn’t like it when you bake? You used to bake for us all the time, especially around the holidays.” 

Riza shrugged. “He didn’t start to mind until after I was finished with school. He said real women in society don’t bake. They have staff for that. I can only hope Lord Bradley doesn’t share his views.” 

As it always did at the mention of her potential marriage, the pleasant mood in the room vanished. 

“That always manages to come up and ruin the mood, doesn’t it?” Roy said. 

“It’s going to change every aspect of my life. I can’t help but dwell on it,” Riza sighed. She no longer had an appetite for her dessert and put her fork down. 

“Then let’s not talk about it again. Not for tonight anyway. No mentions of weddings, marriage, business-”

“-war” Riza offered, interrupting him. She smiled at him, her eyes wide. 

“Yes, we will have none of that.” Roy finished his second slice of carrot cake and internally debated requesting a third. He decided against it and took a sip of his coffee instead. “That was delicious, thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome.” 

“Do you want to join me in the library for a game of chess?” Roy asked as the servants were clearing the dinner table. He stood up and put both hands in his jacket pockets. “I could benefit from the extra practice for next time I play Grumman and you- well frankly you’re terrible. You could use all the practice you can get.” 

“Roy Mustang!” Riza exclaimed with a laugh. She stood up from her seat and made her way over to where he was standing. She poked him in the chest twice. “I’ll have you know that our last chess match was the first game I’ve played in about five years!” 

“Even more of a reason. Practice makes perfect.” He smirked. “I’ll go get my chess set from my suite. I’ll meet you in the library.” 

The Hawkeye library was cozy. Bookshelves lined the walls and the furniture was warm and inviting. Unlike Master Hawkeye’s study, the room was welcoming, encouraging the manor’s residents to sit back and relax. A fire roared from the wall and Riza had turned the electric lights on, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. 

She was curled up in the far left corner of the room on one of the well-worn couches, a fleece blanket across her lap and a glass of wine in her hands. 

“I took the liberty of pouring you a glass,” she said softly as he approached. She motioned to the side table on the opposite side of the couch where his wine was sitting. “Pull the table over a bit and we can use it for the game.” 

“I typically start my games with a friendly wager, but I’ll spare you the humiliation,” Roy teased as he took a seat beside her on the couch. He pulled the rest of the fleece blanket over his legs before he opened up the chess set and started to set the game up. They began playing, sipping their wine and playfully teasing each other on their decisions. 

“I’ll allow you to take that move back, but just this once,” Roy said after Riza’s last move. 

She frowned. “Why? Where did I mess up?” 

“Wow do you have a lot to learn,” Roy said as he brought his head to his hands and began to rub his forehead. “For starters, you left your queen wide open. She’s the most important piece. If you’re serious about winning you can’t do that.”

“I thought the king was the most important piece. Without him, the game is over,” Riza said. She finished her wine and placed the empty glass on the table beside the chessboard. 

“Oh no,” Roy’s face left his hands and shook his head. “It’s all about the queen. The king is weak, with limited power and mobility. Without his queen, he is left wide open and vulnerable. He’s nothing without her.” 

Riza’s cheeks flushed bright red as she felt the effects of the alcohol. She poured herself another half glass, taking a prolonged sip before looking up at Roy. “Behind every successful man is a powerful woman.” 

“Exactly,” Roy said. He moved closer to Riza and reached across her, his fingers grazed her knee, putting her chess pieces back in their original spot. “Now, try again. Protect your queen at all costs. She’s too precious to lose.” 

Riza pursed her lips as she examined the game, taking the time to contemplate her next move. Hesitantly, she picked up one of her bishops and moved it forward. She let go of the piece and slowly looked at Roy. “Better?” 

“Much,” he smiled. He quickly moved his piece in response. “Check.” 

“You said I was improving!”

“You are. I failed to mention this game was going to be over in three to five moves no matter what you did,” Roy gave Riza a lopsided grin. “You’ll get there, Lady Hawkeye.” 

“You’re insufferable,” Riza said with a growl. “More wine? We may as well finish the bottle so we can properly dispose of the evidence.”

“Yes, thank you.” He held out his glass. Without thinking about the words leaving his mouth, Roy turned to her. “Your father gave me tomorrow off. I plan to go into the city to visit some friends. Would you like to accompany me?” 

“Um.” The blush in Riza’s cheeks grew deeper. “Go with you?”

“Yes,” Roy said as he took a sip of wine. “I always enjoy introducing my friends to each other.” 

Riza frowned internally as she realized she was far too tipsy to read deeper into his words. “I’d like that,” she says finally, her voice even. “I doubt father would notice my absence.” 

“Great,” Roy said as he quickly drank the rest of his glass. “It’s getting late. We may want to call it a night before your father returns and finds out his daughter got drunk on my watch.” 

“I’m not drunk!” 

“You certainly played chess like you were,” Roy smiled as he removed the blanket from Riza’s lap. He collected his chess set from the table before turning to bid her goodnight. “I plan to leave around noon tomorrow, Miss Hawkeye. Sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be up by mid-week. I don't have a set schedule, but I do want to complete this by Christmas. I was thinking this will be between 20-30 chapters. According to my outline, it should start getting juicy by chapter 7/8. I'm not the biggest fan of slow burns so I am trying to keep pacing realistic, but the story what I personally would want to read.


	6. An afternoon at the Hughes household

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Riza visit the Hughes family and Riza learns about Roy's ambitious life goal.

Riza woke up to find it was raining. She frowned. Shooting practice would have to wait until tomorrow, weather permitting. Her eyes grew heavy as she fought back a yawn. If it was raining, the least she could do was enjoy her lazy morning before heading into town to meet Roy’s friends. 

Riza instantly sat up in her bed, now wide awake. She had completely forgotten that she had agreed to accompany Roy on his trip into town. A trip as friends, she reminded herself, before frowning. But was it? From what she could remember, Roy had never specified. It was perfectly reasonable, given she consumed almost three glasses of wine, to assume she had misinterpreted his invitation. 

Internally, Riza cursed. Why was she wasting her time trying to decipher what Roy had meant when asking for her company today? She was practically engaged, damn it! Riza hadn’t lied to Rebecca when she said that Roy had never said or done anything to suggest he looked at Riza as anything other than a friend. Reading between the lines of their interactions- a habit Riza had never had before- would not do. She was to be married in the spring and wasting her time with silly little thoughts would only come back to bite her. 

She climbed out of bed and reached for her dressing gown, tying it closed around her waist. She quietly left her room and headed to the kitchen. It was too early for breakfast to be served, but there was a chance Morgan, the Hawkeye’s cook, had the percolator on the stove. The strong aroma in the air answered her question and Riza helped herself to a cup of coffee with sugar. 

“Good morning, Lady Hawkeye,” Morgan said cheerfully as he entered the room, firewood in hand. “There are fresh biscuits in the oven if you’d like something to enjoy with your coffee.” He motioned to the oven built into the corner of the room as he threw some firewood in the stove. 

“No thank you,” Riza replied with a smile. “I can wait until breakfast. How much of the carrot cake is left?”

“Oh, about half,” Morgan answered. He placed a pan on the stove and began bringing it to temperature. “There would be more, but the Lieutenant-Colonel helped himself to a late night snack.” 

Riza giggled. “You would have thought the two pieces at dinner were enough.” 

“I have never understood how that boy is not fat with eating habits like his,” Morgan shook his head. He began to crack a few eggs into the pan. “Would you like a piece of cake with your coffee, Lady Hawkeye?” 

“Oh, no,” Riza said. “But do you think you could have a few generous slices wrapped up and ready to go by noon? I’m accompanying Mister Mustang into town today to meet some of his acquaintances and I’d prefer to not show up empty handed.” 

“Of course,” Morgan answered, his eyes focused on his task before him. “Visiting anyone in particular?”

“No.” Riza sipped on her coffee, enjoying the warmth. “Some of his war buddies, I believe.” 

“Sounds like a wonderful way to spend the afternoon. The Lieutenant-Colonel is a good man and I’m sure the company he keeps reflects this.” 

“Mmm,” Riza hummed in agreement, her coffee cup against her lips. “Morgan, you’ve worked for my father since before he was married. Can I ask you a question?”

“Lady Hawkeye, you know you can ask me for anything. I’d help you bury a body if you needed me too.” 

Riza smiled, knowing his words were true. Morgan had been with the Hawkeye family since her father was a teenager. He had taught her how to cook, never once losing his temper when she had filled his kitchen with smoke. Even now that her father had deemed baking an unsuitable hobby for a woman of her stature, Morgan would sneak her into the kitchen whenever her father was away, excusing himself to errands elsewhere so she could enjoy the kitchen in its entirety. He had served her her first glass of wine, late at night after she had creeped into the kitchen at fifteen still crying over an argument with her father, and had offered her his ear. Although Riza knew her father would never part with his oldest servant, Riza would have asked him to join her at the Bradley estate in a heartbeat. 

“Why do you think my mother eloped despite knowing how much grandfather wanted her to marry Lord Bradley? The truth. I’ve never been given a straight answer.” 

“Ah,” Morgan said knowingly. He quickly finished scrambling the eggs before removing the pan from the heat and turning to give Riza his full attention. “I wondered when these questions would come up.” 

After her mother’s untimely death when Riza was five, her father refused to discuss her. Riza’s knowledge of her mother was almost entirely made of her vague, early memories and the stories told to her by her grandfather and the select staff that had been around long enough to know Elizabeth Hawkeye. 

“You have to understand; your father was a completely different person around your mother. He was loving, kind, romantic… everything a woman could want. He had started courting her before Bradley had expressed an interest and for a good few months your grandfather had almost given him permission to marry her. But then Bradley came around. Even before Lord Bradley created his business empire, the Bradley’s had more money, land and status than Lord Hawkeye could compete with.” He paused and brought his hand to his face, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But Lord Bradley looked at your mother like a possession while your father looked at her as the most precious person in the world.” 

“I know grandfather was furious.” 

“Furious is an understatement,” Morgan said with a laugh. “Your grandfather was livid. He found out about the elopement after your parents had consummated their marriage so there was no going back, even if Grumman could have pulled the strings necessary for a divorce. He didn’t speak to your mother again. Your parents were shunned from East City’s society, but I don’t think they minded. It was only after her untimely death that your grandfather started to make amends with your father and it was only so he did not lose his chance at a relationship with you.” 

Riza frowned. She knew all of this from bits and pieces of various stories told to her over the years. 

“I know my mother’s marriage to Bradley was arranged and that she chose love instead. I guess what I’m really asking is how do you think they were able to justify it? Their elopement went against everything they were taught. My father may not be the man he was when my mother was alive, but I can’t imagine him ignoring all rules of society.” 

“Love does funny things to a person, Lady Hawkeye. My deepest wish for you is that you get to experience it at least once in your life.” Morgan’s smile to Riza was kind and tender, closer to a grandfather’s affection than that of a servant. 

Nevertheless, Riza rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, maybe in twenty years when Bradley dies of old age and I’m free to choose my second husband.” 

“That’s still more than most women of your status can hope for.” 

Riza bit her lip, ignoring Morgan’s comment and returned her attention to her coffee instead. 

/-/-/ 

The Hawkeye Estate was located in the far outskirts of East City. As expected, Berthold had retreated into his office immediately after breakfast, neither noticing nor caring about Riza’s plans for the day. 

The half hour carriage ride passed by uneventfully. Roy fell asleep instantly, leaning against the carriage door. He looked exhausted, dark circles surrounding his eyes once again. Not wanting to disturb him, Riza quietly read her book. 

Roy was startled awake as the carriage entered the city- the cobblestone street provided a bumpier ride than the dirt roads leading to the Hawkeye Manor. 

“Have a nice nap?” Riza asked without looking up from her book. 

Roy yawned in reply as he stretched his arms above his head. He rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

“I came prepared.” Riza motioned to her book before marking the page she was on and placing it on the seat beside her. “You look exhausted. Is your bed back at the manor up to your standard?” 

“It’s perfect,” Roy half-heartedly assured her. “My injury makes it hard to rest for extended periods of time. That’s all.” 

“If there’s anything we can do, please let me know. You look like you haven’t slept well in weeks.” 

He hadn’t, Roy thought to himself, but these were his troubles and his alone. He decided to change the subject instead. 

“I’m sure you will like Hughes and his wife, Gracia. They’ve been married close to six months, so I must warn you they can be a little… well, they can be a lot.” 

“Still in the honeymoon phase?”

“That’s an understatement,” Roy laughed. “She was the only thing he would talk about in Ishval aside from the war. They were married within a month of our return. Hughes has been ready to settle down and start a family since his first day at the academy.”

“Does Mr. Hughes work in your unit?” 

“God no.” Roy smiled at her question and Riza’s heart swelled from the warm look he gave her. “We would kill each other. I love the man like a brother and he annoys me like a brother.” 

“That’s understandable,” Riza said. 

“Indeed. Ah- it looks like we are here.” 

The carriage had pulled up to a row of townhouses. Roy climbed out of the carriage first before offering his arm to Riza. Using his forearm for balance, she climbed out of the carriage, clutching the carrot cake Morgan had carefully wrapped in wax paper in one hand. 

“Please pick us up at seven,” Roy said to the carriage driver. 

“Yes, sir,” the driver said before commanding the horses to move, leaving the two of them standing on the cobblestone. 

Riza followed Roy as he walked up the small group of stairs and knocked on the townhouse door. 

“I should mention before we go in, neither Gracia or Hughes come from status. Hughes’ job allows them a good living, but if they fuss over you… Hughes wouldn’t admit it, but when I let him know you were accompanying me, I could tell Gracia was going to worry over being the perfect hostess.” 

“I don’t care about those things,” Riza said honestly. 

“Oh, I know, and I’m sure when they meet you they will too-” Roy’s sentence was cut short as the door opened and a bespectacled man came barreling towards him for a hug. 

“Roy!” Hughes said as he gave Mustang a hug that was not fully reciprocated. “I’m glad you made it! Your timing is perfect. Gracia just made a pot of tea.” His attention turned to Riza. “And you must be Lady Hawkeye.”

“Please-” Riza put her hand out to stop him from bowing. “Riza. Call me Riza.” She looked Roy in the eye, silently relaying that her request applied to him as well. “I prefer we drop the formalities for today.” 

Hughes' shoulders relaxed at her words and Riza became aware of just how stiff he had been addressing her. “Riza then, it’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. Maes Hughes.” 

“Oh you have?” A playful smile crossed Riza’s face. 

“I’ve told Hughes many stories about my apprenticeship,” Roy said, attempting to come across as casual. He moved to enter the house before Hughes could escort them in. “It’s cold out, I hope you have a fire going.” 

Stepping ahead of Roy, Hughes took the lead down the hallway and into the townhome’s parlor room. It was cozy and well decorated, with bright floral wallpaper, eye catching rugs and inviting furniture. Clearly Gracia had taken great care to decorate the space for her new family. 

“How come I wasn’t told we were bringing dates?!” A blonde man sitting on the couch asked, hands in the air with exasperation. 

“Would you even have someone to bring?” Roy asked, not skipping a beat. “Besides, Miss Hawk- Riza is not my date. She’s Lord Hawkeye’s daughter and she’s been kind enough to accompany me into town today.” Roy turned to Riza, who was quietly standing behind him. “Riza, this is Havoc, one of my subordinates.” He motioned to the man sitting beside Havoc who was occupied with a plate of cookies sitting on the coffee table. “And this is Breda. He works for me as well.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Riza smiled, holding out her hand to the pair. Roy moved to sit down across from Havoc and Breda as Riza turned to Hughes. “It’s not much, but I brought some of the carrot cake I baked yesterday.” She held out the package of wax paper. 

“Gracia will be thrilled,” Hughes offered her a large smile. “She’s in the kitchen finishing up some last minute things. Our housemaid has been sick all week so Gracia cooked lunch all by herself.” He sighed dreamily. “Isn’t she just wonderful?” He took the cake from Riza’s hands. 

“Do you think she would like some help?” Riza offered. “I like to think I’m a decent cook.” 

“You’re our guest, I couldn’t ask you to-”

“I insist. I quite like cooking but father doesn’t think it’s an appropriate hobby, so I’m only allowed in the kitchen when he’s out on business. If anything, you would be doing me a favor.” 

Hughes nodded. “If you’ll follow me, I can show you to the kitchen.” 

Riza and Hughes left the room. As soon as they were out of earshot, Havoc let out a whistle. 

“Don’t even think about it, Havoc,” Roy warned, his eyes narrow. 

“You said she wasn’t your date!” Havoc exclaimed. “And have you seen her?” 

“You're an idiot sometimes,” Breda said from beside Havoc. “Mustang takes women from you, not the other way around.” 

“She’s not my woman,” Roy said firmly. 

“Oh yeah, sure.” The three men sitting on the couch turned to see Hughes entering the room alone. He walked over to the small bar cart in the corner. “Whiskey anyone?” All three men nodded. 

“I’ve known Riza since she was eleven. There has never been anything between us other than friendship.” 

“Which explains why you used to talk about her all the time,” Hughes said with a smirk as he handed Breda his drink. 

“It wasn’t all the time,” Roy scoffed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hughes rolled his eyes. “You’ve talked about women you’ve actually slept with less.” 

Roy snatched the glass of whiskey out of Hughes' outstretched hands and took a generous sip. “Hughes, please stop. She’s spoken for.” 

“All I’m saying is her engagement hasn’t been announced. King Bradley has plenty of time to change his mind.” 

“King Bradley!” Havoc said, surprised. He turned to look at Roy, eyes wide with alarm. “Do you have a death wish? Why the hell are you messing around with King Bradley’s next wife?” 

“We’re not messing around,” Roy growled, his voice stern. 

“But you wish you were,” Breda teased. “Or you wouldn’t be so heated right now.”

“Drop it and don’t bring it up again. Particularly in front of Riza. Her pending marriage is a… sore spot.” Roy had reached his limits with his men’s teasing. “I’m serious. If you don’t drop it right now, I will make sure all of you are on inventory duty for the next year.” 

“I’d like to see you try. You’re still on leave.” 

“General Grumman is Riza’s grandfather. I’m sure he would grant me a favor for defending his granddaughter’s reputation.” It was Roy’s turn to smirk. 

“There’s no way we can win this conversation,” Breda said as he patted Havoc on the shoulder, feigning sympathy. “The man’s in denial. But speaking of Grumman, how did you manage to convince him to give you the entire winter off?” 

Roy frowned. Only Hughes and the General knew the specifics surrounding his leave. 

Hughes must have read his mind and interjected on Roy’s behalf. “He’s still recovering from his injury.” 

“I broke my leg in the same accident and they only gave me six weeks before desk duty! Chief got twelve!” 

“Pays to be a commanding officer,” Roy smirked, secretly hoping Havoc would stop asking questions. 

“Pays to be Grumman’s pet, more like.” 

“Oh, shut up Hughes.”

The parlor door opened and Gracia walked in, Riza right behind her. 

“Whose hungry?” Gracia asked. 

The group shuffled into the Hughes dining room. Gracia had outdone herself. On the table was a small feast, including a ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, roasted vegetables and fresh made bread. 

“Wow, thanks Gracia,” Breda said as he eagerly took a seat. 

“This is only the second time we’ve had company since Maes returned from the war so I may have been over excited,” Gracia answered sweetly. “Save room for dessert. I baked a few apple pies for dessert and Riza was kind enough to bring some of her homemade carrot cake.”

Roy took a seat next to Riza. “Gracia’s pies may give your baking a run for your money.” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Riza laughed lightly. “She showed me a few tricks while I was assisting her.” 

“Riza’s a great cook, I simply gave her some advice,” Gracia said. 

Beside her, Hughes grabbed his wife’s hand, kissing it. “If only everyone here had a wife as wonderful as you, my dear. I can’t wait until we have kids. Everyone in Amestris will be jealous of our beautiful children.”

Gracia blushed and the two continued to hold hands while eating. 

“Kids already? You’ve only been married for what- five months?” Havoc asked. 

“No not yet, but soon,” Hughes replied. “There’s rumors going around that I may be transferring to Central in the next year. We are waiting to see how that plays out first. Moving cities with a newborn would be a nightmare.” 

“If you don’t work under Mis- Roy- what is it that you do Maes?” Riza asked. 

“I work in Investigations,” Hughes said proudly. “I’m more involved with the military police and less with the threats to our country than these guys”- he motioned to Havoc, Breda and Roy- “but I enjoy it. Not every military position needs to be so combat focused.” 

“So you’re the one with all the secrets?” 

Beside her, Roy snorted, encouraging a glare from Hughes across the table. 

“I know enough,” he smiled. “If General Grumman’s sources are correct, Colonel Ellingsworth is planning to retire by this time next year and I’m one of the front runners to replace them.” 

“My grandfather is an extremely nosy person,” Riza said lightly. “I’m sure his information is true.” 

“So how is it having the General as your grandfather?” Breda asked. 

“Aside from constantly entertaining higher ups from Central, he never speaks to me about the military.” 

“He probably can’t,” Roy said. “The higher you are, the more confidential information you’re privy too.” 

“Oh I’m sure,” Riza said before turning to Breda and Havoc. “So how did you two get assigned to work for Roy?”

“He asked,” Havoc shrugged. “And frankly anyone would have been better than my last boss. Besides, the Chief’s future plans are admirable.” 

“What plans?” Riza asked innocently. 

Immediately, Roy glared at Havoc. Everyone, Gracia included, was attempting to avoid eye contact with either Roy or Riza. Riza frowned. Clearly she was the only one unaware of this secret. 

“What plans, Roy?” She asked again, her voice firm. 

“It’s nothing. Just plans within the military.” 

“So if I were to ask my grandfather…?” Riza’s voice trailed off. 

“I like her, boss,” Breda said with a laugh. “She knows how to put you in your place.” 

“Fine,” Roy sighed, defeated. “But you understand this is something that no one outside of this room knows. It’s too dangerous.” He waited for Riza to nod in response. “I intend to become Fuhrer, preferably before I’m 40.” 

Across the table, Maes nodded in solidarity with Roy’s statement. 

“Why?” Riza blinked. 

“Did you know Amestris has been at war, with one country or another, for the past fifty years?” Roy asked her. She shook her head. “It’s true. The war in Ishval may be over, but there’s still skirmishes up at the northern border with Drachma and the border war with Creta.” 

“Only Roy and I were in Ishval,” Maes cut in. “But you have to understand it was a living hell. Not knowing if you were going to live or die, following orders that never truly made sense, and having to fight a civil war against your own people. The people we killed were Amestrians just as much as we were.” 

Riza frowned softly. It had never occurred to her that Roy had killed someone, let alone many people. Sure, she understood that was an unavoidable part of war, but the explicit idea of Roy in combat was not something she had pictured. She looked at Hughes, who was still holding hands with Gracia across the table, and struggled to picture him holding a gun, let alone firing it. 

“The Ishvalan Extermination wasn’t limited to just their makeshift army,” Roy continued. “It included families, women, children- everyone. I decided that there was no way I could be complacent. I intend to take over the military and work to ensure that nothing like Ishval happens again.” 

“When I said you were an ambitious man; I would have never had guessed the extent of your dreams.” 

“If anyone could do it, it would be the chief here,” Havoc said. 

“Oh, I agree,” Riza corrected. 

“I’m an ambitious man.” 

“Now then,” Gracia said as the conversation was fading into silence. “Would anyone like dessert?” 

/-/-/

After lunch, the group had taken to the parlor room and were quickly consumed with a card game. The group laughed and played merrily, barely noticing the time until the sun began to set. 

“I should be heading out,” Havoc said after their final round of cards. “I promised Ma I’d be home for dinner and I couldn’t possibly impose on Gracia for another meal.” 

“I’ll walk with you,” Breda said, standing up. 

The two men gave their goodbyes and gratitudes before heading out the door. Once they were gone, Roy looked at the time. “We have about fifteen minutes before our ride returns as well.” 

“Care to join me in the study until then?” Hughes asked. “I know you're not currently working, but there’s a case I’d like you to look at. I can’t help but think I’m missing something and a new perspective may be the answer.” 

The two shuffled out of the room, leaving Gracia and Riza to pick up the collection of glassware littered throughout the room. 

“Was Roy serious about becoming Fuhrer?” The question had been burning Riza’s tongue since his admittance. She liked Gracia and believed the woman would tell her the truth. 

“Oh yes,” Gracia said. “I’m not sure how much he has told you- Maes has kept more from me than I could even begin to imagine- but I’ve never seen someone look as haunted as Roy did when I went to pick him and Maes up from the train when they returned home from Ishval.”

“He actually has never said anything,” Riza admitted. 

“That’s surprising. From both today and the way he’s spoken about you I assumed-”

“It’s truly not like that.” 

“Oh,” Gracia said softly. “I apologize. I figured Roy’s insistence was due to your expected courtship and his desire to keep your reputation wholesome. With his own reputation and all, I didn’t question. And he’s never brought a woman he’s been seeing to meet us, let alone someone he’s spoken so highly of. It was wrong for me to assume, but you must understand my reasoning.”

Before Riza could ask exactly what Gracia meant, the man in question entered the room, Hughes at his heels. 

“Ready to go?” He asked. “Our carriage should be outside.” He turned to Hughes and Gracia in the doorway. “I’ll see you Friday, Hughes. Grumman is having me come to headquarters to welcome General Raven to East City. Gracia, everything was exquisite as always.” 

“Yes thank you so much for the hospitality,” Riza said to the pair. “It was wonderful to meet you.” 

“It was great to finally meet you too,” Hughes said. “Have a safe ride home.” 

“Sorry about all of that,” Roy said sheepishly once they were in the privacy of the Hawkeye’s carriage. “They can be a bit much.”

“Oh they were all lovely. Thank you for bringing me along. Truly.” 

“I’m glad.” 

“Although…” Riza allowed her voice to trail off as Roy turned to look at her. “Gracia didn’t believe we are just friends, even with your insistence.”

Roy shrugged, trying to play it off. “In Ishval, it was easier to remember the past then try to look forward to the future. It was certainly easier than looking at the present. Aside from the academy, I had spent the past few years working under your father. I'm afraid I’ve spoken about your family frequently. The memories of better times helped get me through the war.”

“That would make more sense.” 

“Even with their predetermined opinions on us, I’m surprised Havoc didn’t try and make a move on you. He has quite a reputation for wanting to be a ladies man, but the ladies don’t exactly like him.” 

“Speaking of reputations…apparently you deny our relationship to save my own. What have you possibly done where your friends don’t fully believe you even when you’re telling the truth and assume such a thing?” Riza said teasing him. 

Roy flushed bright red, clearly embarrassed. He coughed. “Umm, yes well. You know how men are. Military men, in particular.”

“I don’t follow.” Riza’s statement was innocent enough that Roy internally cursed her. 

“I’ve had… a lot of... fun… in my time and just…” His cheeks deepened in color.

“Mister Mustang!” Riza laughed out loud at his embarrassment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered.” 

“Well…” Roy found he could not meet her eyes. “I respect you, Riza. A lady doesn’t need to be hearing about this.” 

“Not unless it is a lady willing to be in your bed?” Riza laughed. She made no effort to hide her joy at his discomfort. 

“There’s more to it than that. Protecting reputations goes both ways,” Roy said defensively. 

“Oh really, how?”

“I’m rather popular with General Grumman. It wouldn’t do you well if he heard we were on a date- even if it was a misunderstanding. It wouldn’t benefit my goals if everyone thought I was getting ahead because I was sleeping with his only granddaughter.” 

Now it was Riza’s turn to flush bright pink. She caught Roy’s eyes for a brief moment before suddenly becoming preoccupied with the bindings of the book she had left in the carriage hours ago. 

“Regardless,” she said after a while. “Thank you for today. It was pleasant.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” 

“I wish you didn’t have to leave in the spring. Your company makes living with father bearable.” 

Roy could see the honesty in Riza’s eyes. The mood in the carriage grew tense. He audibly swallowed. “I wish I didn’t have to leave either.”

“You could resign,” Riza said softly. “Stay with us. Work for my father.” 

“You learned my end goal today, Riza. You know I could never. Besides, you’ll be married within the year.” 

She frowned. “It’s not fair. You and Rebecca are the only friends I have. I don’t want to lose you. Either of you.” 

“Riza, I will always be your friend.” 

She got up from her seat across from him and despite the rest of the carriage being empty, sat down directly beside him. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and Roy paused for a moment before wrapping his arm around her waist. The two sat there enjoying the silence and the warmth of each other before Roy broke their contact. 

Riza jerked towards him as he pulled away from their embrace. Her amber eyes were wide, asking him a question he was afraid to answer. She slowly raised her hand, tucking a single strand of his hair behind his ear. She looked at him expectantly. 

It would be so easy, he thought. He could kiss her now, in the confines of the carriage and no one would ever be wiser. She was staring at his mouth, clearly afraid to make the first move herself. 

Instead, he cleared his throat, the reasons behind why they were just friends flooding his mind. 

“We are here, Miss Hawkeye,” he said, his voice shaking. 

The carriage pulled to a stop and Riza seemed to snap back into reality herself. Falling back into formalities, she moved away from Roy, her eyes no longer boring into his own. “Thank you again, Mister Mustang. Have a good night.” 

She exited the carriage before he could move, leaving Roy to watch her figure walk away into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making Bradley the Fuhrer of this world did not fit what I have in mind for him later. I have through chapter 10 written, so it is a matter of editing and uploading, but my birthday was this week so I've been busy. Next chapter has much fluff and finally some actual romance.


	7. Late night arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Riza get into a late night argument and Roy takes Riza's breath away.

Riza closed her journal and sighed. Today had been a flurry of emotions. For a few hours, time stopped and her responsibilities had vanished and for the briefest respite, she had allowed herself to be just Riza spending the day with just Roy. 

She had always liked Mister Mustang. Her crush on him has ebbed and flowed throughout the years, but it was always there in some capacity. Now that she was no longer a child, no longer a teenage girl, she was beginning to suspect that he felt the same way. 

And yet, in the carriage he had done what she would not and had reminded her of the boundaries and responsibilities surrounding the pair. 

She tucked her journal into its designated hiding space at the bottom of her desk and stood up to get ready for bed. She was already in sleepwear, her dressing gown loosely tied around her waist. She turned off the single electric light in her room, allowing the space to be illuminated solely by the fire, and headed over to her bed. She pulled at the goose down comforter and was about to climb into its warm embrace when she heard a rapping that nearly shot her out of her skin. 

Her body jerked in the direction of the sound as she blinked furiously, hoping it was just a fabric of her imagination. 

Tap tap tap.

No, she clearly wasn’t imagining anything. 

The sound was clearly coming from the far window of her room. Riza took a deep breath in a meager attempt to still her nerves, before heading over to the source of the noise to investigate. 

Tap tap tap. 

Grabbing a poker from beside the fireplace for protection, Riza slowly made her way over to the source of the sound. She approached cautiously, taking a deep breath before she held out the candle in her right hand to provide more light. The candle gave off enough of a glow that Riza could make out a pair of dark eyes looking back at her. She was paralyzed into silence, unable to scream or call for help. Her mind began to race as she tried to will her frozen limbs to move. 

It then occurred to her that she knew those eyes. 

Trembling, she opened up the window, allowing her late night intruder to crawl through. The fire poker in her left hand fell to the carpet, abandoned once she had full confirmation she was no longer in danger. 

“What the hell are you doing? You could have given me a heart attack! I could have screamed! I could have attacked you!”

“Yeah…” Roy Mustang agreed sheepishly as he ran his hands through his unruly hair. 

Riza closed the window behind him, her eyes still wide with surprise. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” 

“Um-”

“Seriously what the hell are you doing in here? If you were locked out, Morgan would have let you in through the kitchen! You know his quarters are directly adjacent!” Riza spat before Roy could answer. 

“I didn’t lock myself out. I was hoping to talk.” 

This caught Riza by surprise. “Talk?” She said the word as though it was foreign on her tongue.

“We left off on a weird foot and you skipped dinner so I thought...” Roy’s voice trailed off as he directed his gaze to the floor. “Now that I’m saying it aloud, this seems crazy.” 

“It is crazy,” Riza answered, her voice sharp. “Do you have any idea what my father would do to you if he discovered you were in my room? Let alone at this hour?”

“Please,” Roy snorted, disarming the cold exterior Riza presented. “When was the last time your dad called upon your room? Let alone this late at night?”

He had a point, but instead of admitting so, Riza simply glared at him. 

“I genuinely just want to talk,” Roy moved away from the window and into the center of Riza’s bedroom. “With your father breathing down my neck all day, everyday, talking to you late at night was the only way I could ensure privacy.” 

“So you climbed through my window? You understand how this would look to, well, to anybody else!” 

“Yes, I realize that now,” Mustang said quietly. “Would you prefer I leave?” He started to move back toward the window in earnest and nearly fell over when Riza grabbed his wrist and pulled him back towards her. 

“No,” she said quickly as she let go of his hand. She paused as he regained his balance. “You clearly had something important to say if it was worth the trouble to climb up the side of my house.” 

Roy sighed and walked over to the bench at the foot of Riza’s bed. He put his head in his hands. “I wanted to apologize properly for today. I should have never invited you. It gave off the wrong impression and it was incredibly irresponsible of me.” 

“What?” Riza frowned. She sat next to Roy on the bench. “You don’t have to apologize. I had a wonderful time.” 

“No, I do,” Roy nodded, as if to convince himself that he was saying the correct words. “There is no real reason that a man like myself should have escorted you, a woman who is spoken for, to such an intimate gathering. If word got back to your father…” 

“You crawled up two stories for this? An apology for an outing I thoroughly enjoyed? All because you are worried someone will tell my father? None of the servants like my father enough to snitch on me and I’m certainly not going to say anything.” 

“I also wanted to ask why you skipped dinner.” 

“I wasn’t hungry. Gracia made a ton of food.” 

“That was hours earlier.” 

Riza bit her lip. She could feel his gaze on her face and turned to look away. 

Roy seemed to understand her unspoken words and cleared his throat. “Miss Hawkeye,” he started, making the shift back to formalities evident. “I decided to come talk to you because I don’t want you to think you did anything wrong. Moving forward, I will conduct myself with the utmost professionalism. Our friendship is highly inappropriate and the last thing you need is it ruining your impending marriage.” 

“Inappropriate? We play chess and talk.” Riza’s dark eyes bore into his soul. “How is that inappropriate?” 

“We don’t just play chess. An unmarried man and an unmarried woman have no business spending time together drinking wine, riding into town-” 

“Chatting in my room at almost midnight?!” Riza interrupted Roy. She stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of him. “You act like you’ve taken me on the side of the road for everyone to see, yet you’re the one who snuck in here! If anything is inappropriate, it’s you being in my room right now. Purpose be damned!” 

“It’s selfish of me, but I didn’t want to start ignoring you without explaining why.” 

“Then don’t ignore me!” Riza threw her hands up in the air. “Why is that not an option?”

“Because you’re about to be married-” 

“Married women are allowed to have friends, Mister Mustang.” Riza’s voice was cold, but her eyes gave away the fire that burned bright within her. 

“I’m trying to respect you!” Roy’s voice was growing heated with frustration. “Why is that so hard for you to accept?” 

“Why can’t you do both?” 

“Because, Lady Hawkeye, today it became increasingly clear how difficult it is to be around you and not do anything rash!” Roy stood up and grabbed Riza’s shoulder to stop her from pacing. She glared at him, but did not speak. “I’m afraid that if we remain friends or acquaintances of any kind, I will do something we will both deeply regret.” 

The mood in the room thickened with Roy’s confession. His grip on Riza’s shoulder tightened as she bore into his gaze with her unwavering stare, daring him to elaborate. 

“I’m not you, Mister Mustang, I can control myself around the opposite sex,” she said cooly. “And if you take me for someone who would give in to your carnal demands, you don’t know me well enough. We are friends. I enjoy your company. But if that is too much for you to handle, then I will oblige.” 

She was angry. Roy could see the rage in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, bite her neck, test how far she would let her rage grow. Blood rushed to his groin as he thought about grabbing her, throwing her down on the bed and proving to her that she would cave to his demands and that she would enjoy it. He wanted to make her scream, make her moan his name as she desperately clawed his back as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. 

Instead, Roy let go of her and took a sobering breath. 

“You don’t have to like it, Lady Hawkeye. I hope you can understand that my decision to end our friendship comes from a place of respect. I have no ill will against you.” 

“Bullshit.” 

Roy’s eyebrows raised at her response. 

“That’s pure and utter bullshit. If I recall correctly, Mister Mustang, you’re the one who invited me to play chess with you. You’re the one who suggested I come with you to visit Mr. Hughes. Why are you suddenly getting on your high horse about us being friends when you’ve initiated everything since your return to the manor!”

“I didn’t think it would be so difficult to be friends!” Roy’s voice wavered as he attempted to keep his temper in check. 

“We’ve been friends for years, Mister Mustang. At least, I thought we were,” Riza’s tone was filled with venom.

“That was different. You were a child, Riza. A young woman in boarding school.” 

“I am still the same person, Mister Mustang. I am still Riza.” 

“Ugh,” Roy sighed. There was no use arguing with her. He had intended to explain where he was coming from. He had wanted her to know that he was doing right by society, not by his own desires; however, he knew that there would be no rationalizing with Riza as long as she was angry. The worst part was he could not blame her for her reaction. He had been the one who had led their friendship along, knowing that she was lonely, sad and about to be trapped in a marriage she wanted no part of. “I’ve said my part. Good night, Lady Hawkeye.”

Roy turned around, leaving Riza standing beside her bed. She was visibly fuming, her body trembling and her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists. Without looking back, he began to head towards the window to make his escape. 

“Bastard.” 

Her word stopped him mid-step and he turned to look at her, his eyes dark with rage. “Excuse me?” 

“What would my father say if I told him you took it upon yourself to climb through my window late in the night?” 

“You wouldn’t.” Roy’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he began to walk back towards Riza. 

“I protect my friends, Mister Mustang. It was your choice to no longer be included in that category.” 

“I made my decision, Miss Hawkeye, and you will respect it.” 

“Make me.” 

The words were barely out of Riza’s mouth before Roy lunged at her. Pressing his lips on his own, he threw her down onto the bed, kissing her hungrily, as though she would disappear if he dared stop. With one hand, he pinned her arms above her head. The other roamed up and down her waist, feeling the curves of her body. 

Riza let out a small whimper as Roy abandoned her lips and moved to kiss her neck, biting down on her exposed skin. He moved to be more on the bed, putting a knee between Riza’s legs, forcing them open and letting go of her hands. Riza began to run her fingers through Roy’s hair before tugging his mouth back to her own. She bit his bottom lip and he let out a long, low moan. 

Roy cupped one of Riza’s breasts and she visibly shuddered under him. He pulled the shoulder of her nightgown down, exposing her delicate collarbone. He moved to focus his attention from her mouth to her collarbone and began sucking her exposed flesh as his hands continued to play with her chest. 

“Oh god,” Riza moaned, her hands still tangled in his hair. Her whole body was burning from his touch. She wanted more, no she needed more of him. She wrapped her arms around his back, pressing him into her as he kissed her skin. His weight was warm and welcomed and she continued to embrace him, frantic to close any distance that remained between them. He tore at her nightgown, eager to expose more of her skin.

She had never felt so vulnerable, so sensitive, so alive. 

They kissed again, desperately, gasping for air. 

As an impressionable teenager, Riza had often daydreamed about what it would be like to kiss Roy Mustang. She had imagined him sweeping her off her feet and kissing her softly with passion as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. This, this was nothing like she expected, yet it was everything she had ever wanted and more. Her heart pounded as his tongue explored her mouth, his hands still roaming her body. She kissed him back as he pressed hard and firm against her thigh. Her back arched and her thighs met his arousal, signaling that she was willing to do anything so long as he continued to take her breath away. 

“Oh,” she moaned as he bit her exposed breast, sucking on her nipple. “Oh, Roy. Yes!” 

At the sound of his name, Roy froze. He had only heard his name on her lips a handful of times, but the sound of it, filled with lust and desire, was enough to make his blood run cold. It was beautiful and internally he wished he could wake up every day to the sound of her calling his name. But the rarity of such a word escaping her mouth brought his attention back to why they used formalities and why they kept up those walls. Just like inside the carriage, Roy was forced to process who he was, who she was and their circumstances outside of her room. Once again, he was forced to face reality for the pair, if Riza was unwilling to do so herself. 

He jumped off of her suddenly as though burned. Riza sat up, face flushed with lust and eyes confused. Her nightgown hung half-heartedly off her body, exposing her shoulders and most of her breasts. She was panting, lips swollen kissing, and Roy cursed himself at how delicious she looked. 

“I’m sorry,” Roy said, his voice distant as he began to back away. “I’m sorry. But this is why we can’t be friends. This right here. You deserve more than to be taken advantage of by your father’s apprentice.”

Before Riza could say anything, Roy opened the bedroom window he had originally crawled through and left without so much as a word or second glance. The clasp of the window signaled to Riza that she was once again alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hopefully that worked. Baring something drastic, there should be another update within a week. Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Best friends think alike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Hughes and Rebecca can see through their best friend's facade and begin to ask questions. Roy has a special delivery for Hughes.

It took every bit of her inner strength for Riza to get dressed for breakfast. In one conversation, Roy had grabbed her heart- beating wildly and flushed with longing- and ripped it right out of her chest, stomping on it for good measure. 

How dare he throw her onto the bed and kiss her so passionately she almost stopped breathing to back away repulsed at her very existence the very next moment? 

Riza was humiliated. She felt stupid for entertaining even the slightest crush. 

She took her time getting ready, flushing her face with cold water in a feeble attempt to wake up her skin and hide the dark circles under her eyes that exposed her lack of sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning, debating if she was the foolish one, or if it was Roy. She decided it was Roy. 

To her surprise, Riza entered the dining room to find her father already sitting down in his usual chair. 

“Good morning, father,” she greeted politely before sitting down in her own seat. 

“Good morning, my dear,” he said. “I received a very interesting letter in the mail last night.” 

Before Riza could reply, the dining room door opened and Roy walked in. He looked just as Riza felt- exhausted, frustrated and uncertain if he should have joined the family for breakfast at all. 

“Ah, good morning Roy!” Berthold said to his apprentice. “You’re just in time. I was about to inform Riza of some excellent news I received yesterday.” 

“Master.” Roy nodded a polite greeting and sat down next to Berthold, avoiding Riza’s gaze at all costs. 

“As I was saying,” Berthold said as he turned his attention back to Riza. “I received a letter from Lord Bradley yesterday. He finished his business in the South earlier than expected and is planning to be in East City by this time next week. He’s officially asked for your hand in marriage and I have already telegramed my acceptance. I’m to meet with your grandfather later this afternoon so we can begin to plan a small party to announce your engagement properly. Isn’t that exciting?” 

“Yes, very much so father,” Riza said, forcing a smile on her face. “Lord Bradley will make a fine husband.” 

“That he will,” Berthold nodded. “I’ve already asked for Pamela to fetch some dressmakers from town. I may have to pay a significant fee for the rush order, but it’s only appropriate you have a new dress for the occasion. Once fit for Lord Bradley’s future wife.” 

“Thank you father.” 

“Congratulations, Lady Hawkeye.” While Berthold was not attentive enough to hear the bitterness in his former apprentice’s voice, Roy’s disapproval struck Riza as though he had slapped her across the face. “I wish you the best in your future marriage.” 

“Isn’t it wonderful, Roy?” Berthold asked, his own excitement making him oblivious to the obvious tension between his daughter and his former apprentice. 

“Absolutely, sir.” 

“Your mother would be so proud, Riza. So proud indeed.” 

Riza doubted her father’s statement. Riza’s mother had eloped to escape marrying Bradley and she could not help but think that her mother would wish for a different fate for her only daughter. Riza’s gaze focused on her untouched oatmeal. She would need an iron will to survive this meal, let alone this week. Luckily, Riza Hawkeye was made of steel. 

/-/-/

Riza fled from the dining room at the first available moment and immediately headed outside to the shooting range to blow off some steam. Not bothering to find Milton to set up the clay trap, Riza grabbed her rifle and began to fire round after round at the stationary target across the range. 

She wasn’t ready to be Bradley’s wife. Not after last night. 

But Riza was a woman of duty and she knew her place was to accept her father’s chosen suitor without question. She bit her lip in frustration and fired another round, gaining no satisfaction as it pierced the center of her target. 

“Lady Hawkeye.” The voice interrupted Riza’s focus and she turned to face the last person she wanted to see. 

“What?” She did not try to mask the anger in her voice as she resumed her task, sending another bullet flying through the air with perfect aim. 

“Your father asked that I find you. The seamstress is here.” Roy said, his eyes on the ground. 

“Okay, thank you. You can leave now,” Riza said curtly. 

“Would you like assistance packing up?” 

“No.” To her dismay, Roy did not turn to leave. She gave him a moment, but it was apparent he had no intention to move. “I said leave. Why are you still here?” she lashed out.

“I just-” 

“You just what Mister Mustang? What do you possibly have to say after making a complete and utter fool of my feelings last night?” 

Roy sucked in his breath, contemplating on what to say next. “You’ll be a beautiful bride, Miss Hawkeye. Lord Bradley is very lucky.” 

Riza kept her back turned to him, giving no sign that she had heard his words, let alone processed them. She remained still until she was certain that the sound of Roy’s footsteps were far enough away before emptying the last of her barrel and throwing her gun to the ground in frustration. 

/-/-/

“Oh my goodness, you look stunning Riza!” Rebecca said from her chair. 

It was four days after Berthold announced over breakfast that he had formally accepted Bradlye’s marriage proposal on Riza’s behalf. She had only seen Roy at dinner and he had been nothing but polite. Her father’s presence at each meal ensured their conversation remained civil, but she wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

She was currently standing in her dressing room as Libby, the town’s seamstress, pricked and prodded at her half-constructed evening gown. 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit… much?” 

“Oh no, it’s lovely,” Rebecca said honestly. “It’s fancier than anything I would imagine you would pick out, but for a woman announcing her engagement… it’s stunning. You’re stunning.” 

Riza frowned and looked at herself in the closet’s large, floor-length mirror and barely recognized the woman looking back at her. The dress, a deep emerald green with more embellishments than Riza would have selected herself, complimented her slim figure and blonde hair. It was lovely, but it wasn’t Riza. 

“Lady Hawkeye, can you please raise your arms for a moment? I need to finish pinning this seam,” Libby said through a mouth full of pins. 

“Yes, of course,” Riza said. She raised her arms and turned her attention to Rebecca. “My father has been in the best mood this week. It’s insufferable.” 

Rebecca smiled softly. “You should have seen my father after Greda and Bridgett were married off. He was thrilled.” 

“Why couldn’t you or Lucy be the next to get married?” 

“Oh don’t say that,” Rebecca said. “I’m not ready to be someone’s wife.”

“And I am?”

“Like you have a choice.” Rebecca shrugged, always the one for tough love. “Although if my older sister’s hadn’t taken one for the team, I suppose I would be in your position as well.”

“There you are, Lady Hawkeye,” Libby said, interrupting their conversation. “We can remove the dress now. Everything has been pinned.” 

Rebecca stood up and walked over to assist Libby and Riza in removing the half-finished dress, careful to not disrupt any of the delicately placed pins along the sides. 

“Thank you, Lady Hawkeye, Catalina,” Libby said with a small bow as she gathered her things. “I will be back at the same time tomorrow. Hopefully that will be the last fitting. We have two days to finish the dress.” 

“Considering the time constraint, you’ve done remarkable,” Riza said, offering the seamstress an understanding smile. “Do you need assistance carrying your things outside?” 

“No ma’am, Lord Hawkeye has arranged for carriage to take me back into town.” 

“Wonderful, I just wanted to make sure. Thank you again Libby. See you tomorrow,” Riza said as Libby finished packing and headed out the door. Standing in her underthings, she turned to Rebecca. “Fasten me up, will you?” She slipped her day dress over her head and Rebecca began to work on the row of buttons. 

“So how is Mustang taking this?” 

“What do you mean?” Riza’s voice was stoic, giving away nothing. 

“Ugh,” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over it. It’s obvious you two like each other. You can’t tell me he isn’t at least a little bit sad?” 

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since my father broke the news.” It was the truth. 

“Why what happened?” Rebecca asked as she finished buttoning the last button. She patted Riza on the shoulder to signal she was finished. 

Riza turned to her best friend, eyes narrow. “What is this, some kind of interrogation?” 

“No, but it is now because clearly you’re hiding something,” Rebecca snapped. Riza groaned internally as she realized she had taken the bait. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

“There’s nothing, Rebecca,” Riza said sternly. 

“Riza, it’s not healthy to bottle everything inside. That’s what girlfriends are for.” Rebecca crossed Riza’s room and sat down on the edge of the bed- right where, four days earlier, Roy had pinned her to the mattress and kissed her senseless. She patted the bed innocently, inviting her Riza to join her. 

Riza sat next to Rebecca and sighed, giving in. Maybe telling Rebecca would help calm the restlessness plaguing her. 

“Well-” Riza started. “The day we went into town to visit his friends, we got into an argument on if it was appropriate for us to stay friends… considering… and then he kissed me before storming away.” This answer was vague enough for Riza’s comfort. Rebecca did not need to know how Roy had snuck into her bedroom, let alone how close they had come to doing much more than kissing. 

“He kissed you?” 

Riza couldn’t tell if Rebecca’s voice was filled with shock, surprise or sympathy. She simply nodded. 

“So where does that leave you?” 

“Nowhere. It leaves us nowhere. Mr. Mustang is correct. He is an unmarried military man and I am an engaged lady of status. There is no place for us to be friends.” She sighed. “He was right, but I’m afraid I lost my temper and called him a few unseemly names.”

“I’m sure he deserved any name you called him,” Rebecca said defensively. “I’m sorry, Riza. Your little crush aside, true friendships are hard to find.” 

“It probably is for the best,” Riza said as she stared at her hands in her lap. “After that kiss… I don’t think I’d want to go back to being friends. Ignoring each other is the best option. It’s only for the winter.”

Rebecca offered her a friend a sympathetic smile. Yes. It was only for the winter. 

/-/-/

Berthold Hawkeye is determined to make his new hobby dropping anxiety-inducing news over breakfast, Riza decided the next morning after her father strutted into the dining room proudly announcing that they were all- yes, all, Mister Mustang included- joining Lord Bradley at his eastern estate for dinner that evening. Riza faked delight before finding she can’t even begin to look in Mister Mustang’s direction. 

Like it matters, she reasoned. She could barely look at him before, but the prospect of having to share dinner with both her suitor and the man sitting in front of her- the man who made her blood both boil and swoon- drove terror through her heart.

Maybe Riza isn’t made of steel like she thought. Right now, she feels as brittle as bone and likely to collapse. 

“He wants to get to know you better.” 

Her father’s words ripped Riza from her thoughts and she turned to look at him incredulously. “Pardon?”

“Lord Bradley. He wants to get to know you better. Honestly, girl, were you listening to a thing I said?” 

Riza ignored his question. “He has our entire marriage to get to know me.”

“Indeed,” Berthold said as he shoved his breakfast into his mouth. “But I still expect you to be on your best behavior tonight, young lady. And wear your nicest dinner party clothes. You dress far too casually around the house. That goes for you as well, Mustang.” 

“Yes, Master Hawkeye,” Roy said. 

Riza looked over at Roy to find him buttering his toast, eyes focused on his task as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Mustang,” Berthold said as he pulled out a bundle of envelopes from his waistcoat pocket. “I need you to go into town and deliver these for me. It’s not as overwhelming as it looks- most of the recipients work in the financial district, many in the same office. We are leaving for Bradley’s at half past five, so please make sure you’re back in ample time to fresh up.” 

Roy nodded as he took the letters. 

“Will Grandfather be joining us tonight?” Riza asked. 

Berthold shrugged. “I haven’t been told yes or no but I would imagine.” 

“It should be a wonderful time, nonetheless,” Roy said from his seat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for the day.” 

/-/-/

Roy found that Master Hawkeye had been correct. Despite the intimidating size of the pile of letters, Roy had them all delivered within two hours, providing him with enough time to both grab lunch and stop by Eastern Command to see how his office was doing. 

He was immediately taken aback by the pomp and circumstance occurring just behind the fortified wall. By the looks of it, every soldier in Eastern Command was in the courtyard but no longer standing at attention, suggesting that whatever event they had gathered for recently ended. Roy furrowed his brow, desperately trying to remember if Hughes or Grumman had informed him of this mysterious occasion and he had simply forgotten. 

The soldiers were beginning to disperse now, allowing Roy to freely look for familiar faces across the sea of bodies. Luckily for him, Havoc, with his blonde hair and above average height, was easily identifiable in the crowd, standing next to Breda and Vato Falman, another of Roy’s immediate subordinates. 

“Havoc!” 

The group of men turned to the sound of Roy’s voice and he headed towards them. The three saluted him as he approached. 

“At ease,” Roy said. “I’m not on duty.”

“Hi, Lieutenant-Colonel, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were stopping by the office today,” Falman said politely. 

“I wasn’t. Lord Hawkeye sent me into town for an errand that took less time than anticipated so I thought I’d swing by. What did I miss? It seems like every soldier in Eastern command is out here.” 

“That’s because they are,” Breda answered. “General Raven stopped by with Lord King Bradley and told General Grumman that he expected a grand welcoming that would make the Fuhrer envious.” 

“General Raven? He’s not supposed to be here until tomorrow. I was supposed to be there to meet him. It’s on my itinerary.” 

“Word is King Bradley decided to come a day earlier so General Raven did as well.” Havoc rolled his eyes. “Bradley’s not even in the military. I don’t understand why we always make such a big deal when he visits. He’s a contractor. We pay him for our weapons, but the generals will do just about anything to kiss his ass.” 

Roy frowned. “Maybe General Raven will be at dinner tonight.” He muttered, half to himself. 

“Dinner?” 

“Lord Bradley invited the Hawkeye household to dinner this evening, myself included,” he rolled his eyes. “It should be an excellent opportunity to build rapport with the generals and Bradley so I should be grateful, but it’s going to be nothing but a bunch of stuffy men stroking their own egos.” 

“And celebrating Bradley’s engagement?” Breda asked knowingly. 

“Well, yes that too. There is a party on Saturday just for that- part of why Bradley is in towns. Speaking of which, as my second in command, you will be attending Havoc. Master Hawkeye has insisted I bring a few guests and Hughes has already accepted.” 

“No can do boss. I have a date on Saturday with this girl I met at the flower shop on Mortan Avenue-”

“Cancel it. You’re attending. That’s an order.” 

Breda and Falman doubled over with laughter as Havoc’s face fell. “But-”

“I assure you Havoc, attending Bradley’s engagement party will be seen as a priority to anyone ranked higher than me. Escalate if you like, but you know as well as I do that you will be attending. Wear your dress blues.” 

Havoc grumbled but did not protest his commanding officer. “I guess I’ll be there.” 

Roy spent the rest of the afternoon racing around Eastern Command. He briefly stopped to visit General Grumman, who both confirmed he would see Roy that evening and assured he was excused for his absence at the morning’s grand welcome for General Raven. 

“I don’t expect you to read the General’s mind and anticipate when he breaks the itinerary,” Grumman said reasonably. 

Roy could feel waves of relief radiating off of him. He thanked Grumman profusely before heading out to search for Hughes, who was in his office diligently looking at files. 

“Hey.”

“Close the door,” Hughes said without looking up at Roy. He finished filling out whatever paperwork had his attention before he sat up, pushing his glasses up in the center with his pointer finger. “So, did you look into what I asked?” 

Roy nodded and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out three pieces of paper meticulously folded into thirds. “They are exact copies, so feel free to keep them.” 

The room was silent as Maes took his time examining the paper’s contents. “This is helpful. Were these hard to get?” 

“Eh,” Roy shrugged. “Not if you know who to ask.” 

“Or who to flirt with.” Hughes rolled his eyes. “I never know with you. Still, I owe you.”

“No you don’t and you know it.” 

“I’m almost done here. If you don’t mind waiting, you are welcome to join Gracia and I for dinner. She’s making a roast.” 

“As tempting as that sounds, I genuinely can’t,” Roy grimaced. “I have to join Master Hawkeye for dinner at the Bradley Estate.” 

“Bradley. Interesting. Is Miss Riza attending as well?”

Roy simply nodded. 

“The plot thickens,” Hughes said. He stood up from his desk chair and walked around to sit at the edge of his desk, facing Roy. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s something you’re not telling me?” 

“You always have that feeling with me.” 

“Not true,” Hughes said as he crossed his arms, practically pouting. “But your answer only confirms my suspicions. Care to share with the class?” 

“No.” 

“Roy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Regardless, my entire job is to find out what people are hiding and you know as well as I do that you can’t keep things from me for long.” 

Internally, Roy cursed Hughes. His best friend was right. Hughes had the uncanny ability to read Roy’s smallest tells and expose his most private thoughts. In Ishval, Hughes had been the first one to identify the cracks in Roy’s carefully constructed exterior. Without his keen observation, the chances that Roy’s demons- ruthless, powerful and covered in the blood of countless innocents- would have consumed him and left him for dead in the desert. It was Hughes' intervention that had resulted in his extended leave and newfound focus on improving his mental health. 

“I’m just an idiot. I kissed her later that night, once we got home from your place.”

“Oh wow, that’s rich,” Hughes' face broke into a genuine smile as he let out a belly laugh. “I don’t know why you even tried to convince us there was nothing there.” 

“Can we focus on reality and not the crazy world that roams your mind?” Roy said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ve mortified her to the point where she can no longer look in my general direction and tonight I have to join both her and her future husband for dinner.”

“Quit while you’re ahead and move on. There’s plenty of women who would love nothing more than to bed the Hero of Ishval.” Hughes stood up and turned his attention back to his desk where he began to gather documents, including the ones brought by Roy, into a briefcase. “Love struck doesn’t look good on you. When I said to get a wife, I didn’t mean someone else’s.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy said, desperate to change the subject. “Just look over those papers in detail and let me know if you need any more information.” 

“I will!” Hughes’ briefcase closed with a satisfying ‘click’, signaling the end to his work day. “Now go enjoy your dinner. Or at least try too.”


	9. The Dreams That Haunt Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Riza imagining Bradley's interest in Roy or is she being paranoid?

Riza was no stranger to luxury. While the Hawkeye Manor had seen better days, the Grumman Estate, with ten en-suite bedrooms and two large dining parlors, was the epitome of grandeur. 

Or so she thought. 

Having never been to the Bradley Manor, Riza had expectations; however, she certainly did not expect the small palace before her. Bradley’s Eastern property was larger than the Grumman and Hawkeye estates combined, with a large, sprawling garden extending all around the foreboding great house. A large lake to the left reflected the rising moonlight and the trees of an orchard rustled in the distant breeze. If this was his Eastern property, Riza could only begin to imagine his main residence in Central. 

Roy shifted beside her, equally in awe. “It looks as though General Grumman beat us here. And he is not alone.” 

Riza’s gaze shifted to where Roy’s gaze was fixated. Grumman’s carriage was stationed directly out front of the Estate, along with another that Riza could only identify as a military-issued one. 

“Here we are,” Berthold said as the carriage came to a stop at the end of the driveway. “Best behaviors now.” 

Riza rolled her eyes at her father’s warning, grateful he was climbing out of the carriage and away from her. She followed him, lifting her dress to avoid stepping on the delicate lace hem. She had chosen a black ensemble for the evening, one elegant enough to meet her father’s expectations, and she could not help but think that she was properly dressed to silently grieve the end of her freedom. 

The trio was greeted by Bradley’s doorman, who politely guided them inside while explaining that both General Raven and General Grumman had already arrived and had joined Bradley in his study for a drink. The doorman politely led the group into what Riza could only guess was one of Bradley’s many living rooms, before excusing himself to fetch their host. 

“Berthold!” A voice boomed across the room. “How wonderful that you’ve arrived.” Lord Bradley entered the room with the two generals following close behind him, deep in their own conversation. “I hope you were not waiting long. Berthold, this is the esteemed General Raven from Central Command. Raven, this Berthold Hawkeye, Grumman’s son-in-law.” The two exchanged pleasantries before Bradley motioned for Roy and Riza, who had both hesitantly stayed in the background, to move forward. 

On cue, Berthold took over the introductions. “Generals, Lord Bradley, you know Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang”- he motioned to Roy who offered a polite greeting- “and my daughter, Riza.” 

“As stunning as I remember,” Bradley said as he kissed the back of Riza’s outstretched hand. 

“My lord,” she said quietly before turning to the Generals. “Grandfather. General Raven.”

“So this is your new wife?” Raven asked, not bothering to take Riza’s outstretched hand. His eyes did a long, nauseating examination of her figure. “Wherever did you find such a gem?” 

“I almost married her mother and Miss Riza is finally marrying age. Some may say the timing was fate,” Bradley answered. If Riza had not been looking for it, she would have missed the smallest twinge of bitterness at the mention of her mother. “Regardless, dinner is ready to be served. Allow me to show everyone to the dining room.” 

Dining room was an understatement, Riza decided. As with everything else in the Bradley household, the room oozed wealth and influence. A large table, meant for twelve but set for the current party of six, was the focal point of the room. A domineering stained glass design occupied the entirety of the north wall and a crystal chandelier completed the space. 

Bradley took his seat at the head of the table and beckoned for Riza to join him on his right. Her father sat down beside her, Mustang next to him and the two generals faced the Hawkeye household. 

“General Grumman has told me many things about your victory in the war. Much more interesting stories than the damned reports they make us read at Headquarters,” Raven began, engaging Roy in conversation. “How does it feel to be adored by Amestris, Hero of Ishval?” 

To his credit, Roy’s expression remained unschooled at the use of this title. 

“Thank you, sir,” Roy said mildly. “It is comforting to know the people of Amestris think highly of the military.” 

Raven then turned to Bradley. “This boy here is a strategic genius. Reminds of you, back when you were young.”

“Is that so?” Bradley asked, his interest piqued. “Tell me more, Roy. I would love to hear about some of your accomplishments.” 

Roy released the breath he had been holding and took a sip of water, slowly lowering his glass back to the table. “My men and I were able to infiltrate the enemy lines. We discovered their plans and successfully spoiled any attempts of them reclaiming the Daliah District.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Only 30 Amerstrian casualties,” Raven boasted. “A small toll compared to the thousands of Ishvalan filth eliminated.” 

Riza turned her head slightly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Roy’s profile. His jaw was tense, but to the untrained eye he seemed unscathed by the glowing admiration from the General from central. 

“Grumman also mentioned your part in the assassination of the remaining Ishvalan clergy,” Bradley said so casually he could have been discussing the weather. 

“Yes sir,” Roy nodded, but did not elaborate further until both Raven and Grumman threw him knowing glances, daring him to stop talking without elaborating further. He swallowed. “Without their priests, the Ishvalan were without what little leadership they had. They have no true army, just militia, and looked to their religious leaders for guidance on all affairs. Once they were gone, the war was all but won.” 

“A fine thing too,” Berthold interjected. “You brought many Amestrian men back home to their wives and children. You should be proud, boy.”

Riza pursed her lips as the rest of the dinner party bantered on, trivally discussing the aftermath of the war and the widespread relief that the Ishvalan threat was no more. Her mind, however, was focused on one word. Assassination. 

Roy had mentioned Ishval was the material of nightmares, but was borderline unfathomable. 

Instantly, Riza truly understood Roy’s desire to become Fuhrer. 

“Riza? Bread roll?” Her father held out a small basket. 

“Yes, please.” She then realized she had said barely a word since their food had been served. “Lord Bradley, your house is beautiful.” It was the truth and seemed a safe enough topic to discuss.

“Thank you, my dear,” Bradley replied as he cut into his steak. “As my properties go, this is the smallest of my houses, but I have more land than my West and South estates combined. Benefits of East City being sparsely populated, I suppose. Tell me, are you much of an equestrian?” 

Riza’s eyes involuntarily lit up at the question. “Of course! I learned to ride as a small child.” 

“Wonderful,” Bradley said. “You’ll come to love the stables here.” 

In lieu of a reply, Riza smiled softly and met Bradley’s gaze. He looked at her fondly, studying her, unphased and unhurried by the presence of his dinner guest. Riza’s cheeks flamed crimson once it became apparent to the entire table how intently he was starting. 

Dinner dragged on, the conversation full of flattery from all five of the gentlemen. Riza stayed silent, only speaking when she was directly addressed. Better to leave the men to their overly polite pissing contest, she reasoned. Even Roy, a genuine and earnest man if she ever knew one, played up his flattery to an almost nauseating level as he complimented the Generals and Master Hawkeye at every opportunity. 

“Let’s all head to the sitting room for a drink?” Bradley asked once the final course had been cleared from the table. A small chorus of agreement sounded from the table. “Excellent. Right this way.” 

As with everything else in the manor the sitting room was the epitome of wealth. The group settled down and to her great dismay, Riza found herself sitting next to Roy, clutching a glass of wine so tightly her knuckles were beginning to turn white. She mentally scolded herself to stop glancing his way to gage his reactions

“So Lieutenant-Colonel,” Bradley began, his usual too-friendly smile on his face. “Now that the war is over and Grumman has secured you a promotion, do you have any plans on settling down soon?” 

How the wine glass in Riza’s hand did not shatter at his question was beyond her. 

Luckily, Roy played off the question with grace. He took a sip of his scotch and returned Bradley’s well-rehearsed grin. “You should meet my best friend. He married shortly after Ishval and keeps insisting I find myself a wife. However, I am eager to advance further in my career before I settle down.” 

“I did the same myself, when I was your age,” Bradley said. “I was a Colonel when I married my ex-wife and I have no regrets for waiting so long. It allowed me to make better connections, connections that allowed me to comfortably retire and start my businesses after I lost my eye. My father, although influential, preferred to keep the company of old money. I had to forge all of my industrial relationships on my own.” 

“I remember the day you announced you were retiring,” Raven said from across the coffee table. “Shocked the hell out of everyone. We took you for a military career man, but it's clear your talents were wasted serving the Fuhrer. Your business empire is second to none.” 

“Mustang has a similar eye,” Berthold said. “If he ever retires from public service, he would be a valuable asset to any company.” 

“Thank you for the compliment, master, but I have no intention of leaving the military.” 

“What if your wounds never fully heal and you are forced to medically retire?” 

Riza could feel Roy shift uncomfortably at Bradley’s words. Something about the question seemed intrusive. 

“They won’t. He’s too stubborn,” Grumman interjected. He winked at Roy. 

“If the occasion does occur where you are in need of a job in the private sector, just know you can always ask me. That is, if Berthold here would bear parting with your services,” Bradley said. 

“I will keep that in mind, Lord Bradley, but for right now, my loyalty is to my country.” 

Riza furrowed her brow. Was it just her or did Bradley seem acutely interested in Roy? All throughout dinner, Bradley had inquired about Mustang, asking about his family, how he became acquainted with the Hawkeyes and now, his future aspirations. She took a sip of her wine, relishing the bitter taste, and tried to push down her paranoia. 

But was it paranoia? Bradley had asked more about Mustang than of Riza herself. She understood that his interest in her was purely transactional- she was young, healthy and prime for bearing children, with a military general for a grandfather and the face of her long deceased mother- but the complete lack of interest in who she was as an individual was striking. Riza could have the personality of a doll and she was certain Bradley would still marry her.

She sighed audibly, realizing too late as the eyes of her companions shifted her way for the first time in an hour. 

“Something wrong, my dear?” Bradley asked, concerned in his voice. 

“Oh no, not at all.” Riza feigned a smile. “I am afraid I am growing tired, but please do not worry on my behalf.” 

“Nonsense,” said Grumman. He turned to face Bradley. “It is getting quite late and Raven and I have a full day at Eastern Command tomorrow.” 

“Understandable. I appreciate the company, General.” 

“We should be going as well,” said Berthold, standing up to begin his goodbyes. 

Riza moved about the room, graciously bidding General Raven and her grandfather a safe ride home and a restful sleep. She approached Bradley and curtseyed slightly. “Thank you for the hospitality, my lord.” 

Bradley’s hand reached out to cup Riza’s cheek, pulling her gaze directly to meet his own. He leaned forward, gently kissing her forehead. 

“Have a good night, my queen.” 

Internally, Riza was screaming. 

/-/-/

“Cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven.” 

Riza smiled softly at Morgan as he served a small breakfast at the kitchen table. It was barely daybreak, but Riza had woken up abruptly and completely almost an hour ago. Once it became clear she was awake for good, she had crept into the kitchen, deciding to take her meal here, for fear of today’s groundbreaking news at the hand of her father. Her engagement party was tonight and the last thing she wanted was something to rattle her nerves. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Morgan asked as he sat down beside Riza with a serving of his own. 

“I’m sure you know what I would say,” Riza answered. 

“I know,” Morgan said with a nod. “But I’ll always ask.”

“I hope arranged marriages die out in time for my children. Mister Mustang’s friend, the one we went to visit, married for love.” 

“Most people of low status these days do, or so my nephew says,” Morgan said in agreement. 

Riza nodded, taking a long sip of her coffee before putting the tin mug on the table. “So I’ve heard.” She paused before turning to her favorite servant. “Why did you become a chef?” 

“Simple. My father was the Hawkeye’s cook before me and his father before that. I never thought about another path for my life. If my wife hadn’t passed away so young, I’m sure one of our children would follow in my footsteps.” 

“It won’t matter. My father will be the last Hawkeye by name.”

“So he will,” Morgan said. 

“You’re the oldest servant my father has. I can’t imagine anyone else manning the kitchen.” 

“You flatter, Lady Hawkeye,” Morgan stood up and offered her a smile, wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes. “Why do I get the feeling this is going somewhere?” 

Riza’s gaze went straight to her lap as her cheeks flushed crimson. 

“You don’t have to continue, Lady Hawkeye.” 

“You won’t tell my father?” 

Morgan stood up and collected their empty mugs and plates, bringing them to the large copper sink. He turned on the water and began to scrub the small pile of dishes. “When have I told your father anything?” 

“But this is worse than falling off my horse and losing a gold necklace. Much worse.” Her voice was shaking. 

Morgan continued to focus his attention on the dishes, giving Riza room to decide if she wanted to talk. 

“Mister Mustang kissed me the night we went into town to visit his friends and I’m afraid I liked it more than I should.” 

Morgan simply nodded at Riza’s confession. He finished scrubbing the coffee tin in his hands before placing it on the drying rack and turning his attention back towards her. “I see.” 

“You see?” She was confused and utterly underwhelmed at his lack of reaction. 

“The Lieutenant-Colonel told me a few days ago. I was wondering if you were going to bring it up.”

“Roy told you?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Morgan shrugged. “So you two really are on a first name basis. About time, he’s only lived here on and off for nine years. And I wasn’t going to say anything unless you mentioned it yourself.” 

“What-what did he say?”

Did she even want to know? Riza cursed internally. He had kissed her, taken her breath away, only to rebuke his advances a moment later. Her father’s announcement the next morning only supported Roy’s decision to distance himself and effectively killed any chance of Riza’s to discuss the event further. 

She wanted to know what he thought, she decided. He had looked at her so ardently, filled with longing and lust, that Riza had lost herself for a moment. He had suspended her emotions, subjecting her to a radiating glow of warmth, a heat that he alone controlled. She longed for it, even now. In his arms, she had no worries or fears. Everything she had ever needed existed in Roy Mustang. 

Or so she thought, until he had ruptured her bubble by breaking their kiss and running away. 

“What did he say?” She asked again. 

“I won’t divulge too much,” Morgan started. “But if my reasoning is correct it’s very similar to what you would say yourself if I kept asking questions. He feels guilty it happened and guilty he enjoyed it in the moment.” 

“It was foolish of us.”

“Or just foolish enough.” 

Riza’s eyes narrowed. “What are you insinuating?” 

“Nothing at all,” Morgan said plainly. “It was a mere kiss. You did not know your father had accepted Bradley’s marriage request and you both deemed the action irresponsible afterward. I see nothing wrong with it, but guilt clearly plagues the both of you.” 

Riza could not bring her eyes to meet those of the Hawkeye family chef’s. They had kissed, but it had been so much more- a detail both Roy and herself had left out. Roy had pinned her to the bed and explored the bare skin of her body without any resistance. He had kissed her collarbone, grabbed her hips and split her legs open with his knee. He could have taken whatever he wanted from her and she would have blissfully complied. 

She knew the full story, but as with Rebecca, she could not find it within herself to disclose the full truth to Morgan. 

She decided to go the safe route. “So what do we do now?” 

Morgan eyedher knowingly. “If I’m correct, both yourself and Mister Mustang have no intention of pursuing anything further.” Riza nodded. “Then it may be best to just speak with him- gain some closure, if you will.” 

“But that’s how it happened in the first place. He was looking for closure to all of… this,” Riza said as she waved her hand around in the air. 

“Yes, but that was closure for a different situation. Mister Mustang is a good man, Lady Hawkeye, and he blames himself for your discomfort.”

She thought about it for a moment, contemplating Morgan’s advice. She did need closure, she realized swiftly. Their tempers had flared and, if she was honest with herself, she had not been her most rational self. She needed to apologize for the slew of insults she had hurtled his way . 

“You’re right.” Riza stood up. “I’m going to see if he’s awake. I would prefer we clear the air before tonight. The party is going to be insufferable on its own.” 

Morgan smiled at Riza before returning his attention back to the half-forgotten dishes. “You know where to find me if you need me.” 

Riza thanked him profusely before exiting the kitchen and heading down the hallway towards Mustang’s suite. 

It was early enough that she could wander the corridors of the manor without little interruption from the staff. The chances of running into her father were even lower, as he often took to his study until the early hours of the morning, barely emerging in time for breakfast, if at all. 

“No! Please!” 

The voice startled Riza. She frantically looked around, searching for the source. 

“I said stop!” 

Her eyes snapped wide. She knew that voice. 

Hurrying forward, she opened the doors to Roy’s room without a second thought. He was fast asleep in bed, tossing and turning, his face contorted with pain. Sweat graced his brow as he continued to cry out. 

“Roy! Roy!” Riza said as she raced towards his bedside. She put a hand on both shoulders and began to gently shake him awake. “Roy! It’s me, Riza. You’re safe. Wake up!” 

“I said don’t kill them!” 

“Roy!” She firmly slapped him across the face, reddening his cheek.

He gasped awake, sitting up straight, eyes filled with panic as his hands lashed out to grab a fistful of bedsheets. “No! Don’t! ...Riza?” His gaze shifted from panic, to confusion. “Riza.. what? What’s going on?” 

“Shhhh-” she said reassuringly as she tucked a strand of his sweat-soaked hair behind his ear. “Your safe Roy. It’s just me.” 

He collapsed into the bed and placed his hands on his forehead as he fought to catch his breath. “I- I-”

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” She placed a reassuring hand on his chest. “You’re safe.” 

They sat there for a moment as Roy’s breathing evened out. Once it had steadied, he met her gaze, eyes somber. “Water.” 

Riza leaned over towards the nightstand and poured Roy a glass from the pitcher the maids made sure to leave before retiring for the night. She handed the glass to Roy, who eagerly drank, emptying it quickly before returning it to her. She placed it back on the nightstand. 

“Sorry about that,” Roy said finally. “Nightmares.” 

Riza raised an eyebrow. “That is one hell of a nightmare. You want to talk about it?” She sat down on the edge of his bed. 

He sighed and sat up slightly on his elbows. “I was dreaming about Ishval. I’ll spare you the details, but reliving what happened there… what I did there…” His voice trailed off. 

“But you’re here now and you're safe,” Riza soothed. 

“I know. I just wish I could stop hearing the screams.” 

Riza reached out and grabbed Roy’s hand. It was clammy and trembling. She brushed her thumb across his knuckles. “Do these nightmares happen often?” 

He averted his gaze, shame clear in his face. “Often enough Grumman placed me on extended leave. Said he doesn’t need an officer who wakes up screaming.”

His answer brought her no reassurance. “How come I’ve never heard you?” 

Roy shrugged. “Benefits of a first floor bedroom, I guess. But don’t worry about me, Riza. I’ll be fine.” 

“Is there anything that can help? A doctor? Medicine?” She bit her bottom lip. 

“Just time and acceptance,” Roy said casually. “Self-forgiveness. I apologize if I scared you.” 

“Don’t apologize!” Riza admonished. “I only wish I could do more to help.” 

“Me too.” He paused. “What are you doing awake so early?” He turned to look at the small clock sitting on his desk nearby. “It’s barely seven.” 

“I couldn’t sleep and decided to have breakfast in the kitchen.” 

“Ah.” Roy nodded in full understanding. “So Morgan told you.” 

“He didn’t say any details, only that you told him we kissed. He did make me realize that I needed to apologize for calling you a bastard- among other things.” She offered a sincere smile, hoping he understood she held no ill will towards him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with such a temper,” Roy said playfully. “If it helps I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have done… well any of it. Climbed through your window, invited you to Hughes’ house or kissed you.” He moved to get out of bed, throwing the covers aside and swinging his legs over to sit down beside Riza. It was then that she noticed he was dressed only in trousers, his bare chest exposed. 

In any other situation, Roy’s well chiseled body would have sent her blushing. His military training was obvious in the definition of his muscles and breadth of his shoulders; however, Riza’s eyes were drawn to something else entirely. 

On his lower left side was a large, angry burn scar. Though the flesh had healed over, the skin puckered angrily, the juvenile scar tissue disrupting his smooth skin. 

Riza realized she was staring a moment too late. 

“From the explosion,” Roy said, answering her unspoken question. As a courtesy, he stood up and headed over to his dresser, pulling on a button down shirt. 

“I know you were injured. But it’s one thing to hear it and another to see it.” 

“It really is all superficial. I’m almost back to normal.” 

“Except the nightmares?”

“Except the nightmares,” Roy sighed. His face fell in defeat and for a moment he was lost in his thoughts. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. This is my penance for the war. I did terrible things. It’s only right I suffer.” 

“So it was all true? The assassinations? The Dahlia extermination?” 

Roy did not answer. He turned away from Riza and began to rummage through another drawer before pulling out a vest. 

“War is war, Roy. No one expects a soldier to go unscathed. Even the victors.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Riza,” Roy said quietly as he buttoned up his vest. He turned to look at her as he began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. “There are no victors in war. Only survivors. I will never be able to take back my actions, but I can work to make them right.” He turned back to his dresser and pulled out a pair of pants. “Do you mind? I need to finish getting dressed.” His voice was neither rude nor upset. 

Riza nodded. She stood up and flattened the front of her skirt. “If it’s of any consolation, it takes great strength to accept your own wrongs.” 

She began to walk out of the room before Roy’s voice briefly stopped her. 

“See you tonight, Riza. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who has left a kudos or a comment. :) 
> 
> I don't reply to a lot of my comments because I'm awkward and think wayyyy too long about my responses, but I appreciate everyone who reads this. This is truly a selfish piece. My goal is to read it a few months down the road when its no longer fresh, have a little wine and enjoy this little romance fic.


	10. Bradley's Precious Trophy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bradley and Riza's engagement party reveals the cold hard truth about their arrangement. Riza requests one things from Roy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not have a beta.

In comparison to standard East City high society events, Riza’s engagement party leaned on the smaller side. Invitations were extended only to esteemed guests of both families and important military connections. While Riza was grateful for a smaller crowd, that was as far as her gratitude could go. 

The carriage ride to Bradley manor had been, if even possible, more awkward than the night before. Riza and Roy found themselves dressed to the nines, sitting beside each other, stuck listening to Berthold’s incessant compliments on how wonderful Riza looked and how proud she made him for marrying Bradley. In the twenty-minute carriage ride, Riza was certain he showered her with more compliments than the last year of her life combined. 

Once inside, Berthold quickly escorted Riza to Bradley’s side, where she stayed for the beginning of the evening to cordially handle the steady stream of party goers hoping to wish the betrothed couple well. As their guests took turns singing their congratulations, Riza thanked them, a fake smile schooling her face and a wine glass nursed in her hands. 

“You look beautiful tonight, my dear,” Bradley said to Riza once they had a pause between greetings. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

“Thank you, my lord,” Riza answered back, gaze focused on the bridge of Bradley’s nose to avoid direct eye contact. 

“Just think, every one of these guests are here to celebrate you.” 

“Aren’t they here to celebrate us?” Riza asked as she took another sip of her wine. 

“Yes, but they would all be here regardless of who I had chosen as my wife. It was you who managed to fit my standards. Despite how much of a grump your father is, he did raise a lovely daughter,” Bradley said. “Ah, look who it is.” 

Grumman had arrived. While Raven was nowhere to be seen, Roy was walking beside the General. Clearly, he was expected to make the General’s rounds with him. 

“Bradley, Riza,” Grumman said, greeting the pair. “My, you look just lovely tonight granddaughter.” 

“Thank you, grandfather,” Riza said softly. 

“I came to give my congratulations, now that everything is official, and to compliment you on such a wonderful party, Bradley. This is certainly nothing like the stuffy events I’m used to. Finally, someone had the courage to only invite the people who mattered.” Grumman turned to Roy. “Have any of your men arrived yet, Mustang?” 

Roy shook his head. “No sir, but I will let you know when I see them.” 

“I’d love to meet the Hero of Ishval’s loyal team,” Bradley cut in. “A man is only as good as the people who follow him.” 

“And the woman beside him,” Grumman included, motioning to Riza. “But of course, you already knew that. Now if you excuse me, I think I just caught a whiff of Raven’s stench. Let’s go Mustang, I’m afraid we have some entertaining to do.” 

They walked away, leaving Riza and Bradley alone together once again. It struck Riza how little effort Bradley made to converse with her. He seemed more than content to have her stand beside him, shining like a brand new piece of jewelry. 

“If you’d like to make your own rounds, my dear, now would be the time,” Bradley said to her, not bothering to look in her direction. “Just be back by the time I give my speech. We are expected to open the dance floor together.” 

“Yes, my lord,” Riza said politely. She glanced around the room, wine glass to her lips, before spying Rebecca and Lucy. They occupied their usual corner, heads huddled close together. Riza had no doubt they were discussing their fellow partygoers. 

“Oh Riza! The dress turned out lovely! Rebecca has been telling me all about it,” Lucy sang as she approached. 

“I feel like a doll,” Riza frowned. “But thank you.” 

“Here,” Rebecca switched out Riza’s now empty cup of wine for a full one. “If I can’t get through this party without help, there is no way you can.” 

“Yes, please,” Riza said, eagerly accepting the wine. “So, how is it looking out there? I can spot the two of you gossiping from a mile away.” 

“We’re watching Winry.” Lucy gleefully motioned across the room. “She’s been talking to Edward Elric- the inventor's son- since we got here. She looks positively smitten.” 

Riza turned her gaze to join Lucy and Rebecca’s point of focus. Sure enough, Winry was talking to a short, golden-haired boy about her age. One hand rested gently on his shoulder and the other was twirling her hair as she laughed at something the boy said. 

“He’s a bit short for her, don’t you think?” Riza asked as the group continued to spy on the young pair. 

“Absolutely, but they’re young. He has time to grow,” Rebecca laughed. 

“Oh to be young and in love,” Lucy sighed. “I can’t wait to be married.” 

“I can,” Rebecca said. “I’m just here for a good time. Speaking of which, where are all the handsome military men? All I can see are the raggedy old generals.” 

“Grandfather only invited a select few officers. Bradley wanted to keep this party on the smaller side,” Riza supplied. “Why? Looking for a husband in uniform?” 

“Military men aren’t rich enough for Becca,” Lucy teased. “And the ones who are, are far too old.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “We all can’t be husband hungry like you, Lucy. I’m just looking for a little fun. If a nice man in a uniform asks me to dance, who am I to say no?”

Riza simply rolled her eyes at her best friend's response as she took another sip of her wine. 

“Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me,” Rebecca snapped as she gave Riza a playful smack. “You of all people should agree. You’re entering the textbook definition of an arranged marriage. Decrepit old man and all.” 

“Bradley is not decrepit,” Riza defended half-heartedly. 

“He’s thirty years your senior. If he isn’t, he will be soon.”

“You always know just what to say to make it worse, don’t you?” It was Lucy’s turn to roll her eyes. She turned to Riza. “Don’t listen to Rebecca. She’s just lonely and upset there’s no one here to sweep her off her feet.” 

“Sweep me off my feet? I’m just trying to find someone to get me on my bac-”

“Rebecca!” Lucy and Riza yelled in unison. 

Rebecca scoffed and sipped her wine, ignoring their reaction. “Judge me all you want. But why can a man have relations before marriage and not a woman? It’s 1893, women should be able to take a lover if they want. Especially if we are expected to enter an arranged marriage.” 

“Because it’s far from proper.” Riza raised her eyebrow. 

“Or it’s just another way to keep women oppressed and powerless to men,” Rebecca said. “Besides, it's too late for me. I may as well keep enjoying myself.” 

“Not all of us are willing to throw away society’s rules,” Riza said sharply. Internally, Riza supported Rebecca, but the cavalier attitude her best friend used to discuss such a taboo topic always troubled her. 

“At least the start and end of my sexual experience won’t be with a man old enough to be my grandfather.” 

Riza’s face fell at Rebecca’s words, but her best friend did not relent. 

“What? It’s the truth,” Rebecca said. She watched as Riza fought the urge to wilt before softening her tone. “It may not be the most proper thing for a lady of my status, but at least I know what it’s like to be cherished and wanted by someone. At least I know what it’s like to be loved.”

“Who said I won’t know what it’s like to be loved?” 

“If you ever do, I doubt it will be Bradley who shows you.” 

Before Riza or Lucy could respond, footsteps sounded behind them. The girls turned to find two men in uniform approaching, silently granting Rebecca’s wish for the evening. Wide smiles shone on the faces of both men. 

“It’s great to see you again, Riza,” Hughes said. “And who are your lovely friends?” 

“Maes, this is Rebecca and Lucy Catalina. Rebecca, Lucy, this is Maes Hughes and Jean Havoc. They served in the Ishvalan war with Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang.” 

Pleasantries were exchanged amongst the group. 

“Where is your wife tonight, Maes?” Riza asked before Rebecca could form any ideas about the bespectacled man. 

“She was not invited. Grumman seems to think the military gains more support when young, single soldiers show up to entertain the old, rich widows. Figure that.” Despite having to leave his wife at home, Maes seemed jovial about the arrangement, as though amused by the very prospect. “So, if any of you have any elderly, single, and wealthy relatives who could benefit the military, please send them our way.” 

“Widows love Roy,” Riza said gleefully, recalling Roy’s reluctant stories of past military galas.

“Don’t remind him,” Havoc laughed. He looked across the room to where Grumman was currently introducing Roy to a pair of older women who were visibly gushing over the brooding young officer. The group watched as Roy visibly withheld a flinch as one of the women tucked a lock of unruly hair behind his ear. “Should we rescue him, Hughes?”

“He has his rank for a reason,” Hughes said with a shrug. “Better him than us.” 

Rebecca and Lucy both let out a giggle at the men’s exchange. 

“Leaving your superior to fend for himself?” Lucy teased. “That seems a bit against protocol, don’t you think?”

“He’s not my superior,” Hughes supplied. “Havoc, however…” 

“The chief’s a big boy. He will manage. I’m more concerned about making sure you lovely ladies have a wonderful time tonight. Anyone escorting either of you two this evening?”

Rebecca jumped at his words before Lucy had a chance to open her mouth. “Not at all. So tell me, what do you do for the military?” 

Riza rolled her eyes and finished her glass of wine. Finally, and thankfully, she was starting to feel a buzz. 

“I’m holding down the fort until the Lieutenant-Colonel is back from leave so you could say I’m the boss,” Havoc answered. 

“Yeah, could say,” Hughes supplied as Havoc threw him a dirty look, clearly not appreciating the side comments from his makeshift wingman. 

“Comments aside, I am Mustang’s second-in-command. Hughes here works for intelligence.” 

“That must keep you busy,” Lucy said to Hughes. 

“It does,” Hughes answered. “The case I’m currently working on takes up all of my time, but it’s what I love. It helps that Grumman gives me a good amount of freedom.” 

“Nosey bastard,” Riza mumbled. “He likes being one step ahead of everyone.” 

“Yes he does,” Hughes agreed. “But it keeps me employed so I can’t complain.” 

“So what’s this case about?” Rebecca asked, the tease evident in her voice. “Can you tell us anything?” 

Both Havoc and Hughes burst into laughter and shook their heads. 

“It was worth a shot,” Rebecca said with a wink before she turned to Havoc. “So, if he’s married, what’s your situation?” 

Havoc promptly turned a brilliant shade of red as he sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. “I’m in between relationships right now.”

Riza was impressed at how smooth the words managed to come out of his mouth despite the blush dominating his features. Besides her, Lucy rolled her eyes. 

“How fortunate. Me too.” 

The clinking of a glass suddenly echoed throughout the great room and the small party turned to find Bradley standing at attention in front of the large fireplace, ready to address the crowd. 

“I believe that is my cue,” Riza said as Bradley glanced her way, silently beckoning her to join him. She reluctantly moved to leave. “Behave while I’m gone,”- she looked at Rebecca- “all of you.” 

“We’ll try,” Lucy answered for her sister. 

“Good luck out there,” Hughes said cheerfully. 

“She doesn’t need luck.” Rebecca winked. “She’s had at least two glasses of wine.”

Riza waved to her companions as she crossed the room, trying to ignore the omnipresent eyes that followed her. She was fully on display for everyone to see, dressed up in her brand new party dress to join her future husband at his side. 

“My dear, I believe it is time to formally get this celebration started,” Bradley said to her once she approached. Not far off, her father stood talking to the Doctor Rockbells, looking as pleased with himself as Riza had ever seen. Bradley cleared his throat, once again tapping a fork to the crystal glass in his hands. After confirming the rest of the lingering chatter had died, he started speaking. 

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Bradley began. “It’s an honor that so many people are here to celebrate our upcoming marriage.” The room politely provided a round of applause, gentle and controlled, to these words. “When I first realized that an heir was no longer in the cards with my first marriage, I was admittedly devastated. Ending my marriage was not a decision I took lightly.” 

Bradley’s genuine sincerity when discussing his ex-wife caught Riza off guard. For a man who approached their impending marriage with such candor, focusing on the arrangement in a purely transactional fashion, hearing the endearment he held for his old wife was unexpected. It had never occurred to Riza that Bradley would hold any true sentiment for his old wife. Perhaps there was hope for her after all. 

Riza suddenly realized how terrible the poor woman must feel after being thrown aside and replaced by a new model twenty years her junior mere months after her divorce was finalized. 

“Luckily,” Bradley continued. “Lady Hawkeye has been the light I needed to convince myself that not only was this the correct decision, but that our future will be prosperous. Please, toast with me as we celebrate the future of Bradley Industries, the birth of many children and to a long, happy marriage as Lord and Lady Bradley.” 

The room raised their glasses in unison. “To Lord and Lady Bradley.” 

Beside her future husband, Riza joined in the toast. Bradley met her eyes as the room drank in celebration. 

“What a wonderful speech, my lord,” Riza said politely. 

“Come with me, my dear,” Bradley said as he extended his arm out to Riza. She followed him to the dance floor and placed her free hand on his shoulder as he grabbed her waist. The intimacy of their position was not lost to Riza, yet his touch triggered no reaction. 

The small orchestra Bradley had hired for the night began to play a simple, lively number. Bradley led Riza into a simple waltz and she followed him with ease, thankful for her ballroom training at boarding school. All eyes were on them as they moved throughout the room. 

As with every interaction Riza had experienced with Bradley, he spoke very little to her, choosing instead to silently show her off to the guests circling the perimeter of the dance floor. He smiled and nodded to his business acquaintances as they whirled around the room in an elegant waltz. 

Riza, on the other hand, kept her eyes decidedly on the wall, just above the tops of the party goers heads. She feared that if she made eye contact with anyone, the complacent mask she commanded over her emotions would crumble. They danced wordlessly and without passion, rigid and professional, mirroring the very skeleton of their arrangement. 

As the song began to settle down, Bradley slowed his movements. The band finished with a resounding vibrato and the room began to clap as Bradley bowed, placing a gentle kiss on Riza’s hand. 

“Thank you for dancing with me, Elizabeth. It was divine.” 

Bradley’s words stopped Riza’s heart for a full moment. There it was. Concrete proof of Riza’s deepest fear. She was a placeholder for her mother. 

Part of Riza wanted to correct her future husband, but another, louder part, insisted she stay silent. She wasn’t entirely certain his use of her mother’s name had been an accident and now was not the time or place to make such an inquiry. She decided to shelve the concern and wait to investigate, finding temporary comfort in resolving to keep an eye out for future proof that Bradley was indeed intending to use Riza to replace his original failed engagement. 

Her gut, however, told Riza she already knew the answer. Nevertheless, she curtsied to him. “It was my pleasure, my lord.” 

The band began another song and couples started to dance all around Bradley and herself. The room was live with excitement and Riza looked for Bradley’s lead, holding his hand expectantly. 

Instead of moving back into a waltz, Bradley strode over to his previous seat, guiding Riza along with him. There, General Raven was waiting. 

“A beautiful dance for the beautiful couple,” Raven said as he held out his glass in respect. “Now that the formalities are good and over with, can I have a minute of your time, Bradley? In private.” 

“Of course,” Bradley said, letting go of Riza. He turned to look around the room before calling out. “Mustang!” 

Roy was standing a few feet away, cheerfully talking to a man Riza did not know when his name rang out. “Yes, Lord Bradley?” He asked as he approached the small group. 

“Do me a favor, will you. Dance with my fiancé. I need a word with General Raven and I’d like her to be properly entertained until I come back.”

If Bradley’s request racked Roy’s nerves, he didn’t let it show. “Of course, sir,” Roy amidably replied. He threw back what little of his drink he had left, placing his glass on a small table beside them, before turning to Riza. “Lady Hawkeye.” 

Riza nodded her head. “Lieutenant-Colonel.” 

They settled into an awkward posture as Roy took the lead. Though his breathing was even, Riza could feel his arms shaking as they moved. 

“You look beautiful, Lady Hawkeye,” Roy said after a moment, desperate to break the tension between them. “This dress is becoming on you.” 

“No it’s not. It’s far too much and you know it,” Riza said, the ghost of a smile on her face. 

Roy seemed uncertain on how to continue the conversation from there. He moved with her, avoiding eye contact completely and Riza could almost hear him counting down the seconds until their dance ended. 

“Bradley has barely spoken to me all night, and when he did, he called me by my mother’s name,” Riza blurted out. The words left her mouth before she realized what she was admitting and she internally cursed. Blame the wine for her boldness. Now that she had admitted it out loud, she could no longer pretend her fiance’s misstep had never happened. 

“He what?” Roy said as he looked at Riza, his hesitation gone. 

“He called me Elizabeth. The man has spoken twenty words to me all night, but he is able to call me by my mother’s name.” 

Roy twirled her softly, pulling her back towards him with the utmost ease, the tension between them now gone as one friend sought comfort in the other. “I’m sure it was a mistake.” 

“No it wasn’t. I’m just a trophy to him- a young little thing who will pop out children and who shares the same face as the only woman he was never able to have. If I wasn’t he would speak to me more.” 

“Did he say it was a mistake?” 

“I didn’t correct him nor did he notice.”

“Are you sure he didn’t notice?” 

“Do you think I’m wrong?” 

Roy’s silence voiced his unspoken agreement. He shook his head and pulled Riza closer, careful to avoid crossing the line on what would be considered inappropriate. She was no longer awkwardly away from him and she decided to push the boundary as she leaned into him for emotional and physical support. Her grip on his shoulder tightened as they continued to dance. Roy did little to stop her. 

“I shouldn’t even care. I’ve never been under the impression that I wouldn’t be in an arranged marriage. My father has never given me any inclination that he would not pick my husband out for me. This is the only thing I’ve expected. So why does this bother me?” 

“Expectations don't always equal reality. Knowing you’re expected to marry whomever your father decides won’t always make it easier when the time comes.” 

“Clearly,” Riza sighed into Roy’s shoulder. 

“Is there… is there anything I can do to help?” His voice was so quiet, Riza almost missed his words completely. 

“No. Letting me vent is more than enough.” 

They continued to dance, allowing a peaceful silence to wash over them. The song ended but neither Roy nor Riza pulled away. After scanning the room, it was clear that Bradley had not returned from his conversation with General Raven and the pair silently exchanged glances agreeing to a second dance. 

The music shifted to a slower, melodic tune almost melancholy in nature. Roy pulled Riza flush to his chest and she tucked her head into the crevice of his shoulder, breathing in his cologne. They swayed in time for a moment, forgetting everything and everyone around them. The escape was a welcomed reprieve to Riza’s turbulent mind.

It occurred to Riza that this may be the most intimate exchange she had ever had with anyone. Her father left much to be desired in regards to affection and her mother existed in flashes that were more retellings of others’ stories than her own memories. This tender embrace, soft and gentle, but firm and unwavering nevertheless, took her breath away more so than the hot searing kisses she and Roy had shared a week ago. 

She closed her eyes, determined to capture this feeling- to preserve it in the depths of her mind for herself and herself alone. After this, she would continue playing the part of Bradley’s dutiful new wife, but for right now, in this moment, Riza began to understand what it meant to be cherished. 

Bradley had no interest in cherishing her. She was a placeholder- his life sized doll intended to fill the void her deceased mother and barren ex-wife had left. Each interaction with Bradley furthered Riza’s understanding on why her mother had betrayed society’s expectations and ran off to elope with her father. Perhaps Bradley had treated her the same way, putting her on a shiny pedestal, but never truly having an interest in knowing who Elizabeth Grumman was. Their marriage, much like Riza’s impending one, would have been purely transactional. Elizabeth had been negotiated for like a prized mare at the country fair and Grumman had given her away to the highest bidder without a second thought, only for Elizabeth to reclaim her life and risk everything for love. 

Rebecca’s words bounced around in Riza’s head relentlessly. “At least I know what it’s like to be loved.” 

Riza swallowed, internally making her decision. She would marry Bradley, she knew deep down, but if she was to be doomed to a life as a trophy, producing children and managing the social aspects of the Bradley estate, she wanted to know happiness. She wanted to know what it felt like to be cherished. 

She wanted to know what it meant to be loved. 

She raised her head, closing the distance between herself and Roy. “Actually, there is something you can do.” 

“Hmmm,” he hummed, not breaking their rhythm. 

“Come to my room tonight.” There was no hesitation in her words. 

Roy instantly stopped dancing and pulled away from her so she could see his full face. He looked alarmed. “What?” 

“Come to my room tonight.” This time it was insistent, reading almost like an order. 

“You don’t… you don’t know what you’re asking,” Roy stumbled. 

“Yes I do,” Riza reassured. She paused, searching for the right words, fully knowing she was approaching a point of no return. “I’m going to be Bradley’s little possession for the rest of my life. I don’t want to grow old with regrets. Please. Come to my room tonight.” 

Roy’s breathing increased to an almost ragged pace. He stepped back, not quite letting go of Riza, but releasing her from his immediate warmth. He stared at her face, searching for the sincerity in her words, his expression unreadable. He cleared his throat. 

Before Roy could speak, Riza’s name rang out behind her. She turned to find Grumman cheerfully walking over to the pair. 

“May this old man have the pleasure of a dance with his darling granddaughter?” Grumman asked as he offered Riza his hand. 

“Of course, grandfather,” Riza said as Roy let go of her completely. 

It was only after Roy had walked fully out of her sight that she realized he had never given any implication of his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who takes time out of their day to read this. Next chapter is when the fun begins :) 
> 
> Also, shameless plug, but if you need some light-hearted Royai, checkout my one shot series "The Team Finds Out". It's filled with all the crazy antics only Team Mustang could get tangled up in.


	11. Clandestine Affairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy Mustang is a good man, but even good men have their weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I dislocated my shoulder running (my dog stopped suddenly and I flipped over her and finished my run anyway because I didn't think anything was wrong until after, making it worse) so typing is a little harder than I'd like. I try to update once a week, but if next week's update is a little late, that is why. If you celebrate this time of year, have a very happy holiday!

When Hughes offered to drop Roy off at the Hawkeye Estate, regardless that it would add almost thirty minutes to his carriage ride home, he gratefully accepted. The young Lieutenant-Colonel bid Master Hawkeye, Lord Bradley and both generals goodnight before following Hughes and Havoc outside. 

“That turned out to be more enjoyable than I expected,” Havoc said once inside Hughes' carriage. 

“Of course you’d think that,” Roy said with a smirk. “We saw you were entertaining Riza’s friends.” 

“What can I say? Ladies love me.” 

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll manage to settle down before you’re forty.” 

“I wouldn’t be so bold if I were you, Roy,” Hughes interjected. “With the way you pine after Miss Hawkeye, you’ll still be single long after Havoc finally meets a girl who will keep him.” 

“I don’t pine after Riza,” Roy said defensively. 

“Yes and you weren’t relieved when I offered to take you home so the two of you didn’t have to sit in silence with her father.” 

Roy pursed his lips. Hughes was right. That was exactly why he accepted the ride home without hesitation. After Riza had all but propositioned him in the middle of the dance floor, he didn’t know if he would be able to survive the carriage ride back to Hawkeye Manor. 

He momentarily debated discussing Riza’s request with Havoc and Hughes before strongly rejecting the idea. Every fiber of Roy’s being insisted he ignore her offer, casting it aside as though the words had never left her lips. She would understand his intentions once and for all if he never showed up. He needed to protect her, all of her- her virtue, her reputation and her future. Riza’s path had been determined and who was Roy to soil it.

He wanted to listen to reason. It made sense. It brought him solace. She was too pure and too good for this world and she certainly didn’t deserve to be the mistress of a soldier. He needed to ignore her request, but only for her sake, for he was already lost. 

He made up his mind. He had to ignore the desperate plea that had escaped her lips. It would break her heart, but in due time she would thank him for the enormous restraint he had shown. 

Hughes and Havoc must have sensed how deep in thought Roy was, as they didn’t address him again until the carriage pulled up to the Hawkeye manor almost fifteen minutes later. 

“Have a goodnight, Roy,” Hughes said with a small, sympathetic smile. “Try not to think about her too much.” 

Roy shrugged off his comment and exited the carriage. The manor was quiet. Riza and Master Hawkeye had yet to return from the party, allowing Roy to slip into his quarters in peace. 

He quickly changed out of his uniform and into his sleepwear before pulling back the covers of his bed and sliding in. Somewhere in the distant halls of the manor, footprints sounded and murmurs echoed. Riza and her father must be home. 

He banished the thought of Riza undressing upstairs out of his mind as he laid down, determined to go to sleep. 

/-/-/

The ornate clock on the wall signaled it almost one in the morning. Riza frowned as she lay in her bed, her book half-forgotten in her lap. She had been home for almost an hour and knew Roy had arrived before her. If he was going to visit her, he would have come by now. 

She finally abandoned her book, tossing it aside, and lay down with her hands behind her head. Her body had had time to process the alcohol in her system and embarrassment was beginning to race through her. She had put herself out there, propositioning her father’s apprentice, only for him to shoot her down. Had she really interpreted everything wrong? No. She rationed. Surely the searing heat behind their kisses was more than just a man experienced in the art of pleasing women. He must feel similarly about her. She would accept no other explanation.

She stood up, wrapping her robe over her nightwear, and moved to tend to the fire one last time before admitting defeat and going to bed. Once she was satisfied with the steady flame dedicated to heating her room, she extinguished the last of her candles and crawled back under the covers. 

Riza had barely laid down when her heart jumped out her chest at a familiar rapping sound echoing from the far corner of her quarters. 

She leapt out of bed, ignoring her pounding heart, and headed towards the window. She struggled to unlock it, her hands trembling with either excitement or shear panic- though she was uncertain which. As soon as the distinct click of the latch sounded, the window swung open, bringing with it a bitter gust of wind. 

“Damn it’s cold outside.” 

Roy climbed through the window and latched it shut with uncanny efficiency. Within moments he was fully standing in Riza’s room, silently looking at her, waiting for her to speak. 

“Hi,” was all Riza could manage. 

“I’m still not so sure this was a good idea,” Roy replied honestly. He was dressed in only his sleepwear, slippers adorning his feet. 

“Then why are you here?” Riza winced at her words. The last thing she wanted was for Roy to realize his mistake and leave like last time. 

“I tried to go straight to sleep. I should be exhausted but… here I am,” Roy said sheepishly. 

“Here you are.”

“Your father will kill me if he learns I keep sneaking into his daughter’s room late at night. I doubt I could talk my way out of it occurring twice.” 

“I can’t imagine his reaction would be too pleasant if I admitted I was the one who asked you to come.” 

A thick tension emerged from Riza’s words as the reminder of her request filled the air. He was here at her insistence. Her insistence to ignore the carefully crafted rules of society and to follow their heart’s deepest, most problematic desires. 

“Yes about that.” Roy struggled to get out his words and shifted his weight from side to side. “Why did you?” 

“Does it matter?’ 

“Yes.” Roy’s answer was abrupt and to the point, catching Riza off guard. “It does. It matters a lot. I deeply care about you Riza, regardless if anything were to happen between us or not. It’s important I know why you’re making such rash decisions.” 

“I…” Riza paused as an involuntary shiver raced down her spine that had nothing to do with their conversation. “Do you mind if we step away from the window? The draft’s chilling and my nightwear is only so warm.” 

Roy nodded and moved to sit on the bench at the end of Riza’s bed, beckoning for her to join him. She followed willingly, taking her seat by his side. She wrung her hands together as she tried to think of the best words to say. 

“I can’t help but feel like my mother would be disappointed in me for being so...” -she hesitated, searching for the correct word- “...cooperative with my engagement.” 

“Ah.” It was all Roy could muster. 

“I know I will marry Bradley. Of that much I am certain. I’m not my mother. I’m bound to my duty and my duty is to honor my father and marry the suitor of his choice.” Riza took a deep breath, her gaze frozen on her hands. A long, pregnant silence passed as Riza mustered enough courage to continue. “But I don’t want to live with regrets. I’ve realized I can’t.” 

“What would these regrets of yours be?” Roy was certain he knew her answer, but he wanted to hear it from her. There was no room for misinterpretation or assumption, not when directly dealing with matters of the heart. 

“I don’t want to look back thirty years from now and question if this-” she motioned between the two of them- “could have been more.”

“Riza.” Her name fell from Roy’s lips with such tenderness her heart almost swelled and burst. “Riza… if we pursue this, it will only end with one, or both, of us getting hurt.” 

“I understand,” she said with certainty. She had thought about it long and hard and knew that somewhere down this path lay heartbreak. Even with this realization, she was willing to take the chance.

“I care far too much for you to be the man you’re caught cheating on your husband with.”

“You won’t be. You’ll be back to active duty in March and I’ll be moving to Central as Bradley’s wife. It’s a finite time frame and I do know what that will lead too. I know this is setting me up for heartbreak.”

“It’s not just you, Riza. You’re asking a lot from me too. You’re asking for me to just let you go willingly, knowing that there can be nothing more between us again.” 

“It’s selfish, isn’t it?” Her cheeks blush red. “It’s so selfish.” 

“A little,” Roy said. He debated reaching out and grabbing her worried hands. He wanted to massage the tension out of her fists as he kissed away the worry lines forming on either end of her large, amber eyes. Instead, he stood up and turned, his back facing her. “You deserve better than some midnight affair with an expiration date.” 

“No. I deserve to be loved, Roy. Bradley will never love me. For all his pining, I doubt he loved my mother either. I’m quite certain you're the only man in my life who has ever taken the time to get to know me for me. You’re the only one I want.” 

Roy is still standing facing away from Riza as her final confession fell from her lips. He’s still, but she can hear his labored breathing. Slowly, Riza stood up and moved toward him, putting a tender hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her and his eyes were wide with a swirl of emotions, a visible tremble in his jaw. 

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” Riza said quietly. 

Riza mustered every ounce of courage she possessed and grabbed the collar of Roy’s sleep shirt, crashing her lips onto his. Clearly startled, he stood immobile for a second, processing the daringly bold display of affection, before throwing all caution to the wind and kissing her back. One hand wrapped itself around the back of her neck, pulling her close and enabling his fingers to wrap themselves through the loose strands of her hair. The other hand grabbed the loose fabric of her nightgown that billowed freely around her waist. 

Riza moaned as Roy deepened the kiss and she opened her mouth, granting his tongue access. His kiss was exactly how she remembered and it triggered a burning, overpowering need deep inside her. She removed her hands from his shirt, throwing them around his neck and began to cling to him as though he was the single most precious thing in her world. 

Except he was. 

Roy sucked on her bottom lip before abandoning her mouth, moving along her jawline and down to her neck. Riza leaned back, granting him better access, sighing as he worked her skin with his teeth, always careful to flit from spot to spot to avoid leaving any marks. 

“Riza,” he whispered to her collarbone as he caressed it with his tongue. 

Roy moved to pin her against the wall, both hands firmly on either side of her head. He recaptured her lips eagerly. 

Riza broke the kiss and leaned her forehead forward into Roy’s own. Panting wildly, she sighed. “Lord Bradley doesn’t want to get to know me. How am I supposed to love him? How will he ever love me?” 

“You deserve better than to be some military officer’s lover,” Roy said, wanting to give her one last opportunity to change her mind. 

“No,” she said as she puts her hand on his chin, moving his face to make eye contact with her. “You’re everything I deserve.” 

He took her words as her final answer. Roy kissed her again, hands now moving up and down her nightgown clad body, treasuring every inch of her. Riza moaned into his mouth as she dared her hands to run up and down his muscular torso. Seeming to get the message, Roy began to move away from the wall and towards the bed, never breaking his kiss for longer than it took to take a hungry breath. 

The back of Riza’s legs bumped into her mattress and she broke away from Roy in surprise. Unlike last time, when he had practically thrown her flush against the mattress to devour every inch of exposed skin, Roy paused to allow Riza to sit down on the bed herself. He moved to sit down next to her, running his teeth down her collarbone, savoring the small mews escaping her mouth. 

Riza then laid down on the bed, beckoning Roy to join her. He climbed over her, running his hands up and down her body, frowning at the cotton nightgown she still wore. He reached down, running his fingers across her thighs, tickling her softly. When he traced the edge of her nightgown, he wrapped his fingers in the fabric before making eye contact with Riza once again. 

He stared at her for a minute, silently asking for her permission to go further. She bit her bottom lip, flushed red from their frantic kissing, and nodded. 

Roy leaned down and kissed the top of her ear. “Tell me to stop at any time and I will, okay?” 

“Okay,” Riza sighed, raising her hips off the bed to assist as he slowly pulled her nightgown up and off her body, leaving her bare chested and only in her underwear. 

Roy took a moment to allow his eyes to roam her newly exposed body before lowering his head to kiss her bare breast. Riza gasped at the sensation, fisting his hair between her fingers as her back arched in response to his affection. He responded by eagerly nipping her skin and taking her other breast in his hand. 

“Roy-” Riza whined, begging him for more. Her skin was on fire, burning, thirsting for his immediate touch. She needed more of him. She needed all of him. “Roy, please.”

He looked up at her, keeping eye contact as he continued to suck on her breast. His gaze was mischievous, playful and filled with lust. He broke her kiss, throwing off his own sleep shirt to expose his torso, before moving his lips to her smooth stomach. 

Riza giggled as his tongue raced down her skin, stopping at the waistband of her underwear. His lips fluttered along her hip bones as one of his hands began to move up her thigh. Riza bit her lip to conceal a squeak as he gently traced a finger over her throbbing center over the cotton fabric that remained his only barrier. His hands danced once, twice, three times before they returned to her waistband. Another moan encouraged his hands to dip under the barrier. 

Roy moved back up to recapture Riza’s mouth as his hands graced her center. She let out muffled words that his mouth eagerly swallowed as she began to wither under his gentle touch. 

“Is this okay?” Roy asked as he worked a gentle rhythm with his fingers. 

“Yes,” Riza said as moved to kiss his chest, sucking on his muscular body. “Absolutely yes. Oh please don’t stop. Please-” 

Her orgasm hit her all at once and completely and her body gently shook as she rode out the sensation. Roy peppered her breasts, collarbone, and neck with light, airy kisses as Riza let out a low moan. When it was over, she lay there heaving, her eyes glowing with the euphoria brought by her release. 

“Good?” Roy asked with a smirk. 

“Very good,” Riza said, nodding her head, her mind too frazzled to put together a full sentence.

“We can stop here if you’d like,” Roy said as he ran the back of his hand lovingly down her cheek and captured her chin. He bent to place a chaste kiss on her lips. 

“No,” Riza said simply. She began to tug at the waistband of his shorts. “Please, Roy. This is what I want.” 

Roy gave in and pulled down the rest of his shorts. Riza’s eyes grew wide as she caught sight of his length, her breath audibly hitching. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch him, eliciting a moan unlike any she had previously heard from Roy. The sound gave her confidence and she moved to repeat the motion as Roy stripped her of her underwear. 

“This might hurt,” Roy said as he began to position himself over her. 

“Go slow?” Riza asked. 

He gave her a reassuring kiss as he slowly began to guide himself in. Riza winced before taking a series of deep breaths. Roy continued to push forward before pausing to intertwine his fingers with Riza’s. Her breathing began to even out and she shifted her hips experimentally. Once adjusted, she gave him permission with a breathy sigh. 

In her wildest fantasies, Riza imagined Roy’s touch as a hot, searing fire, eager to consume her mind, body and soul. Now, he was gently kissing every expansion of skin with a deep, tender caress. He treasured her, worshiped her, and was determined to show her just how much she meant to him. It marveled her how clearly she understood his feelings for her based on his actions alone. This, she was almost certain, wasn’t pure lust. This was something more. 

The pain began to dull, allowing pleasure to burst into the forefront of her mind. With the utmost caution, she experimentally moved her hips to meet Roy’s and they both shuddered at the additional sensation. 

As he grew more confident with her adjustment to him, Roy’s thrust became more urgent and Riza found herself biting down on his chest to muffle the screams that collected at the back of her throat. He moved with intention and she melted at his touch. 

“Roy,” Riza moaned, her head thrown back against the mattress. 

“Come for me,” Roy demanded. “Come for me Riza.” 

He could feel her orgasm before it hit her and watched as she unraveled underneath him. He fed her sensations, his movements growing more and more erratic. Riza’s orgasm shuttered to a halt and Roy, with the largest moan, pulled out before spilling her thigh. 

They lay there for a moment, out of breath and hazy with lust, before Roy stood up, instructing Riza not to move. He grabbed a handkerchief from her dresser and cleaned up his mess, kissing her softly. 

“I’ll be taking this with me,” he said, scrunching the handkerchief up in a ball. “It will be less suspicious in my room.” 

Riza only nodded, her head still swimming with an array of emotions. 

“You okay?” Roy asked, clearly worried that she had not spoken. 

“Yes. And I have no regrets either, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Riza said, reading his mind. “I just, my mind is processing a lot right now.” 

“I used to think about this,” Roy said, guilt thick in his voice. “One day, you just came home from boarding school a woman and it took everything in my power to not notice. I clearly failed.” He moved back to join Riza in bed, wrapping an arm around her and throwing a blanket over their naked bodies. 

“I wish you could stay the night right next to me,” she said with a sigh. “But I suppose that would give Marian an awful scare in the morning.” 

“I can lay here a while,” Roy said lovingly as he stroked his hands through Riza’s hair. 

“Will you come back tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow? Miss Hawkeye, you’re just insatiable, aren’t you?” He teased. 

“Please?”

“Yes,” Roy said after a pause. “Yes I will.” 

She sighed and nestled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. He continued to work his hands through her hair, holding her close. This may have been one of the most reckless decisions of Roy’s life, but in that moment, holding her close, listening to the crackle of the fire, he would have risked everything for Riza Hawkeye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't as cringe-filled as it was to me when writing it. Thanks for reading!


	12. The Hawkeye Family's Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maes Hughes is a good friend, but Roy makes it way too easy to tease him sometimes. Gracia has a few words of wisdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late. I try to have an update by Tuesdays at the latest, so please expect the next chapter by that time early next week.

“When Grumman said you were suicidal; this is not what I thought he meant.” 

“This is serious, Hughes,” Roy said, his forehead flushed to the counter. 

“I’m being serious. Bradley is going to set a hit man after you when he realizes Lieutenant-Colonel Roy Mustang, Hero of Ishval and infamous womanizer, deflowered his future wife.” 

“Why do you have to say it like that?”

“How would you prefer I say it? You fucked Riza Hawkeye?” 

Roy merely banged his forehead against the counter before sitting up and turning to look at his best friend. 

“What do I do Hughes?” 

“I’m not following,” he said with glee. 

“If Master Hawkeye, or General Grumman, or Lord Bradley finds out…” Roy swallowed audibly. Now that he was saying it out loud, by bedding Riza he potentially made enemies out of three wealthy and influential men who could easily end his military and professional career. “I am a dead man.” 

“Should have thought of that before you let your dick do the thinking,” Maes said as stood up and walked over to a cabinet across the kitchen. He pulled out two crystal glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “Normally, I prefer not to drink before”- he glanced at the grandfather clock across the room- “ten am, but I think this calls for an exception.” 

Roy smiled meekly. Earlier this morning, he had been blissly in a daze, snuggled against his pillow, wishing to relive the wonderful dream he had had of taking Riza into his arms and fully making her his. He replayed how flushed her body was against his, how her hands had pulled at his hair and how she had whispered over and over how she was his and his completely. 

Half-asleep and encased underneath layers of down blankets, Roy had been hesitant to fully wake up, afraid that the delicate memories of his dream would fade away if he opened his eyes. 

He was only roused by his need to use the toilet and after relieving himself, he chanced a look in the large bathroom mirror, almost tripping over his own feet at his reflection. 

He was shirtless, collarbone exposed, and along with it the half-dozen bruises Riza had left along his chest. 

It hadn’t been a dream at all, he concluded in a sobering moment of both terror and joy. He and Riza had slept together last night. She had invited him into her room and, like the weak man he was, he had accepted her invitation. 

Roy should have been embarrassed at his actions, but he was merely mortified by the potential consequences. And really, if he was being truthful to himself, he would do it all over again if it meant having Riza moan as she unraveled underneath him. 

Upon further thought, it became abundantly clear that the consequences if their tryst were to be discovered, were horrifying. 

“Relax, Roy,” Maes said, pulling Roy out of his head. “No one is going to know.” 

“You can’t be certain.”

“You said you climbed through her window- a desperate move if there ever was one, I might add. It’s reasonable to assume that no servants saw. I’d be more concerned if they heard you.” 

“We were quiet,” Roy admitted quietly. “Had to be.”

“Well okay then!” Maes said cheerfully, clapping Roy on the back. “You have nothing to worry about.” 

“But what happens if someone does end up hearing us?” 

Maes froze at Roy’s question, eyes wide with panic. “You’re not thinking of doing it again, are you?” 

Roy’s sigh admitted everything. “I agreed to go back tonight.” 

“Oh no you’re not. Roy, I was joking before when I said Bradley was going to murder you, but I can’t stress enough how much you shouldn’t start an affair with his wife.” 

“They aren’t married,” Roy said defensively. 

“They will be soon. People can forgive a one-time thing, but an affair? Just what are you thinking? I know you like the girl, but there is a limit to my support.” 

“I know it’s stupid,” Roy grumbled. “I know it’s the last thing I should do. But she’s getting married in March and will be moving to Central. I should be back on active duty, serving who-knows-where. With luck we should never see each other again. But she’s worth the risk Hughes. Even with every alarm bell sounding in my head.” 

“I’ve never seen you have it so bad for a woman.” Hughes shook his head in disbelief. “And naturally, you pick the woman with the worst set of circumstances.” 

“Hughes-”

“Look, Roy,” Hughes interrupted. “This is far from the wisest decision you’ve ever made. I don’t like it. Just try and be smart and not get caught. Okay?” 

Roy finished his drink and held out his glass for a refill. Hughes raised his eyebrow slowly, a telling look upon his face, before pouring another drink. 

“Good morning!” The two men turned to see Gracia entering the kitchen, a fresh basket of groceries in her arms. “Oh, Roy, it’s so great to see you today. Are you staying for lunch?” 

“Yes please,” he said simply. 

“How was the party last night? Anything interesting happen, or was it just another stuffy military event?” Gracia asked as she unloaded the small bundle of vegetables into the sink. Her back turned away as she began to rinse them, allowing Roy’s flushed face to go unnoticed. 

“It was standard, although Bradley does know how to cater. The food was delicious,” Hughes said, misleading Roy into a false sense of security that his secret was safe. Really, he should have known better. “Although Roy had a much more interesting night than I did.” 

“Oh,” Gracia said, mischievously looking over her shoulder at Roy, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “How interesting?”

Roy took a drawn out gulp of whiskey. “Oh, you know.” 

Using a dish cloth to dry the freshly washed vegetables, Gracia placed them all on the table directly across from the men sitting at the bar top. Pulling out a chef’s knife, she began to dice the potatoes into even squares. “Does this have anything to do with Miss Riza?” 

“You're as nosy as your husband, sometimes,” Roy said, his voice not fully committed to teasing her. 

“So take that as a yes,” Maes interjected. “Roy here thought it was a good idea to take Miss Hawkeye to bed last night.” 

If this revelation surprised Gracia, she didn’t show it, allowing her attention to be consumed by the pot pie she was preparing. 

It surprised Roy how genuinely annoyed he was that she had not reacted at all. “I didn’t take her to bed. She asked me to join her on her own.” 

Gracia’s knife froze mid chop and she finally looked up at Roy. “Sleeping with a woman on the day she’s formally engaged. You really do have no common sense, Roy.” 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Hughes said. “But, my darling, it gets worse. He likes her. I mean he likes her likes her.” 

“Of course he does,” Gracia answered. “Anyone with eyes can tell.” 

“His feelings are deep. He’s willing to continue this affair until his marriage.”

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Roy said, slightly irritated. He finished the rest of his drink before once again motioning for Hughes to give him a refill. 

“I think two whiskeys this early in the day is a reasonable cut off.” Hughes closed the whiskey bottle and stood up to return it to his small personal bar on the other side of the kitchen. “We’re only talking because, honestly Roy, I never thought there would be a day where you would think more with your heart than your dick.” 

“Vulgarity aside, he’s right, Roy,” Gracia continued. “We don’t want to see you get hurt. I’m sure Maes has lectured you about the professional and social consequences, but I worry about the emotional ones. Your emotional consequences. You’ve clearly fallen for a girl who can never be yours. This was bad enough before you had confirmation she felt similar. Now you’ve gone and acted on those feelings. Dummy.” 

“Some friends you guys are,” Roy grumbled. 

He paused, processing Gracia’s words. She was correct, as usual. He had acknowledged, to both Riza and himself, that there was no way to avoid hurt feelings, but they had brushed it off as a child brushed off a skinned knee in an eager attempt to return to the playground. No, Roy lamented. Though he could only speak for himself, he knew he would suffer a deep heartbreak when they parted ways in the spring. 

Loving Riza Hawkeye would leave a deep, gaping wound in Roy’s chest and he had willingly begun to press the blade into his own flesh. 

“We spoke about the emotional consequences briefly,” Roy said. “Perhaps I should have thought about it more. I don’t know. I just wanted to know what it would be like, you know?”

“Our Roy-boy is in love!” Hughes sighed dreamily.

“I’m not in love!” 

“You’re something, and it’s more than just wanting to share her bed,” Gracia giggled. “But seriously Roy, watch out for your heart. You’re entering a gun fight with a knife. The least you can do is wear some armor.” 

“Do you think I shouldn’t have?” Roy’s voice shook with worry. 

“No. From the brief interactions I’ve seen between you two- not to mention how you’ve talked about her all these years- this was inevitable. On the bright side, if this all explodes in your face, it’s not as disastrous as it would be if she was already married and you could potentially run away together in disgrace.”

The room was silent for a moment, aside from the quiet kneading of dough as Gracia began to shape the pot pies’ crusts. Roy pursed his lips, desperately attempting to separate the complex web of emotions tangled deep within his mind. 

For not the first time that day, Roy wished he was a better man. Riza- young, beautiful, innocent, Riza- had orbited his brain since the day it became clear she was no longer a child. His affection, though successfully hidden for years, had finally burst, flooding the pages of both their lives. He had known better. He knew better. But, with defeat, Roy came to the same conclusion he had numerous times before in similar tangents. He would die before missing his chance to truly know Riza Hawkeye. 

Last night, she had writhed underneath him, her mind putty at his touch. Her mouth had gasped open as she allowed the most delicate noises to escape her throat. He had watched as her body rippled with ecstasy as she rode out her orgasm. Everything about her had been perfect and it was all for him.

Yes, he would die for this knowledge. 

“This was inevitable,” Roy sighed. “I would never have been strong enough to say no if Riza made her move.” 

“Which in and of itself surprises me,” Gracia said. “Miss Hawkeye, though clearly fond of you, gave me the impression she’s not one to break the rules.” 

“She’s not.” 

“Apparently, you’re the exception.” 

“She’s also relatively repulsed by Bradley,” Roy said plainly. “He calls her by her mother’s name, never tries to get to know her and he’s more than thirty years her senior.” He wrinkled his nose at the thought of Master Hawkeye’s willingness to marry his daughter off to a man older than himself. 

“If you ask me, society needs to abandon the idea of arranged marriages,” Hughes said. “Plenty of people marry for love. Just look at Gracia and I. We could be the shining example on why.” 

“She’s rich. It’s different, Maes,” Gracia said. “Riza comes with land and titles.”

“Did you ever think you would get to pick your husband, Gracia?” Roy asked. He realized that, despite knowing the couple for nearly as long as they had been together, he did not truly know if their marriage had been opposed by Gracia’s side of the family. 

Maes’ parents, Roy knew, owned a small chain of general stores in West City. Though they were financially comfortable, they had no family name, no legacy and no titles to protect. His parents had married for love and Maes had never expected anything less for himself. 

“Yes I did. My parents also married for love,” Gracia smiled at the thought. “My grandparents were the first in my family who did, if I remember correctly. I wouldn’t be surprised if arranged marriages start to die out by the time we have children- even for the rich.” 

“The rich play by their own rules.” 

“There will be plenty of other ways for them to continue to control their money and power without selling their children off to creepy old men,” Hughes said pointedly. “Speaking of rich people, I had time to review the documents you gave me. Let’s head to my study. We can get out of Gracia’s hair while she finishes lunch.”

“You boys are never a bother. At least not with this little liquor in you,” Gracia lovingly teased. “The pot pies are just about ready for the oven. I’d say half an hour at most. I’ll come grab you two when it’s ready if you haven’t emerged.” 

After putting his glass in the sink to be washed, Roy followed Maes out of the kitchen and upstairs to the small study his best friend kept. The room, unlike the rest of the house, was not tended by Gracia or their weekly housemaid, leaving it a cluttered mess. Stacks and stacks of papers lined every available surface. When the Hughes family had moved into the townhome after their wedding, this room had been the first priority when upgrading to electricity, perfect for the late nights Hughes often spent- though rarely admitted to- pouring over his papers searching for the small lies and the hidden truths. 

Hughes immediately pulled out a binder stuffed full of loose papers, many of which had numerous notes in his sloppy scrawl. Opening the binder, he shuffled around the contents for a few moments before finding what he was looking for and holding it out to Roy. 

“Read this and tell me what you think.”

Roy took the paper from Hughes. It was an order form, clear and precisely detailed. Fortunately for Hughes, the accountant of this company was meticulous with their work. 

“That’s a lot of gunpowder for a textile factory,” Roy said after a long while. 

Hughes had been observing Roy’s expression the entire time he pondered over the document. “Isn’t it? Look at the date.” 

“Quarter 2, 1888.” Roy frowned. “This is around the same time as the info I gave you.” 

“How often does Lord Hawkeye do business with the Archers? Do you know?”

Roy ran his hand through his hair. “Only sometimes. I’ve never met with a representative from the family, so they are not a big enough business partner for Berthold to bother forging extended relationships with. I can dig deeper into it if you need me too.” 

“Yes please, and the sooner the better. We were at the academy in 1888. There is a chance the Hawkeyes and Archers did a lot of business that you simply are not aware of.” 

“That’s not unreasonable,” Roy agreed. Internally, he racked his brain for any obvious information he may have missed. “But I’ll have to look into it nonetheless.” 

“None of this makes sense,” Hughes said. “I’m heading out West soon to visit Gracia’s family. They may not be wealthy, but we are hoping her brother has enough business connections to look into similar occurrences. The Western border was at war not that long ago.” 

“You really think this extends outside of East City?” Roy asked, genuinely surprised by his best friend’s plan. 

“No. Maybe. I’m not sure. I’m not confident enough to bring my findings to my commanding officer, that’s for sure. He thinks my leave is purely to visit family. Once I have more information, I’ll inform the Colonel. Regardless, even if this is only isolated to East City, what we have gathered is messy and very, very questionable.” 

“You have my discretion, so long as I have yours,” Roy said, a sheepish smile on his face as he once again remembered the reason he had showed up on Hughes’ doorstep in the first place. 

“Either way you look at this, from the paperwork to your bedroom antics, this isn’t looking good for the Hawkeye family’s reputation.” Hughes leaned against his desk, legs and arms crossed. 

“No, it isn’t,” Roy muttered. “Give me a little time. I can’t have Master Hawkeye knowing I’m snooping through his records. Luckily, he doesn’t pay too close attention. He’s always focused on the current task at hand and nothing else. He invented the term tunnel vision.” 

“At least his oblivious nature helps you out in more ways than one.” Hughes winked. “Now, I hope you're hungry! It smells like the pot pies are almost ready,” Hughes said as they exited his office, locking the door shut before rejoining Gracia for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone has a happy 2021! Thank you to everyone who took time out of their lives to read this silly little self-indulgent piece that makes me happy. Hope it makes you a little happy too.


	13. Wedding Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Riza spend another night together. The next day, Riza reluctantly joins Bradley for lunch, unaware of his observant eyes.

“Oh! Oh god! Roy!” Riza moaned. Eyes sealed shut, her hands desperately tangled themselves in Roy’s hair as he busied himself between her thighs. 

“Quiet Riza,” Roy ordered. He nipped the skin along her thigh, causing her to give out a small mew. “We can’t have the servants hear you and I’m not finished yet.” 

Riza nodded, eyes shut and head flushed against the pillow. This seemed to be enough for Roy, who eagerly returned to his work, lapping at her clit as he fucked her with one hand and held down her bucking hips with the other. 

Riza bit her lip, desperate to keep from yelling but overwhelmed at the sheer sensation. As the heat in her stomach grew, Roy’s touch ignited a sensitivity unfamiliar to her and before she knew it, she was coming. A long, drawn out moan signaled her orgasm, but Roy did not relent on his pace until her body stopped trembling. 

“Good?” He asked, sitting up between her thighs. He ran one hand across his mouth, wiping the evidence off his lips. 

“Yes,” Riza breathed. “Holy shit, yes.” 

“I’m glad,” Roy said. He crawled up Riza’s body and kissed her straight on the mouth. She could taste her on him and the filthiness of it made goosebumps jump out on her skin. “You taste delicious, by the way.” 

At these words, Riza blushed a deep red. “We can keep going, if you’d like.” 

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Roy said gently. “You said yourself you’re sore from yesterday. I don’t want to push it.” 

“I’m fine, really. I barely bled,” Riza said sitting up, her blanket falling into her lap, exposing her bare breasts. 

“Yes maybe, but I would prefer to give you more time to recover. That way, I can really have my way with you next time. I can’t do what I plan if your pussy is already halfway swollen from losing your virginity. I could feel you wincing when I added a second finger.” 

“If you’re not disappointed,” Riza said finally. 

“Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed? I have sisters, I know how first times go for women.” 

“Because I’m not readily available to you.” 

“Not that bullshit.” Roy rolled his eyes, but stopped when he glanced at Riza’s shocked expression. “Did they teach you that at finishing school? That you are to be ready and willing for your husbands? Eager to bare children?” 

Riza simply nodded. 

“Do I really seem like someone who would follow that old fashioned ideology?”

“Not particularly,” Riza said with a frown. “Sorry. This is just uncharted territory for me. I don’t know what to expect from you, or any man, really.” 

“You don’t have to expect anything except respect,” Roy continued. He pulled Riza into his lap and wrapped his bare arms around her torso, kissing along her neck. “I like my women independent. Tell me what you want, when you want. Say no whenever you’re not in the mood. Demand your own pleasure. If we are going to make this an ongoing thing, it’s important to me that we are equals in bed. Just like we are equals during the day.” 

“How can I be your equal? I don’t have a quarter of your experience.” Riza shivered as she felt Roy’s tongue run up her ear. 

“The experience part will come with practice. Lots and lots of practice. Which is why we need to take it easy today.” He kissed Riza on the mouth, deep and passionate. 

Physical intimacy was new to Riza. Berthold Hawkeye, though not cruel or neglectful, struggled to show his daughter affection outside of hollow, verbal praises. It marveled her how something as simple as being held, being embraced, being kissed fulfilled a need Riza had not known was there. She leaned into Roy’s touch, entwining her fingers into his. 

“Oh! Before I forget!” Roy reluctantly untangled himself from Riza’s body and jumped out of bed, giving her full view of his perfectly sculpted backside. He walked over to the windowsill he had used to enter her room and grabbed a small paper bag still sitting on the wooden lip. “Here, it’s from Gracia.” 

“What is it?” Riza asked as she took the bag from his hands, opening it to find a small jar filled with a strange, unfamiliar mixture of herbs. 

“Contraceptive. It’s a tea used to help prevent pregnancy. Obviously, I’ll make sure to avoid you know, finishing in you, but a second method can’t hurt us. She wrote out all the instructions but if you have any questions, Hughes had a telephone line installed in the house not too long ago.” 

Riza unfolded the piece of paper that accompanied the tea. Gracia had neatly outlined the exact details on how to brew a batch. Riza started to smile softly at the thoughtfulness before she realized something. “You told Gracia?” 

“I told Maes, who told Gracia,” Roy said sheepishly. Riza’s face fell into a frown, but before she could argue, Roy started on the defense. “I trust Hughes with my life, Riza. He won’t say anything.” 

Riza contemplated his words for a moment. All of her brief interactions with Hughes had supported that he was a man of genuine character. She relented. “If you trust him, then I trust him. But I want to tell Rebecca.” 

“Do you trust Rebecca?” Roy’s words were neither accusatory or suspicious. 

“Yes. Rebecca is a lot of things, but she’s a good friend and knows when to keep her mouth shut.” 

“Then tell Rebecca. It may be good for you to have someone to confide to after…” his voice trailed off. 

“After what?” 

“When all this ends. Just in case going separate ways hurts a little bit more than expected. I understand you know the reality of this situation, but there’s always a possibility that your charming demeanor and good looks will leave you wishing for more.” 

Riza playfully slapped him on the arm. “Shut up.” She folded up Gracia’s note, running her thumb along the edge of the paper. “That’s why I want to tell Rebecca,” she said quietly after a while. “It’s going to be quite the adjustment going from being with a man like you to a man like Bradley.” 

“Don’t think like that. Not now. Not with me,” Roy said as he climbed back into Riza’s bed. He sat up leisurely against some pillows. “Go put that somewhere the maids won’t find it and come here. We have a little bit until I have to head back to my room.” 

Riza stood up and walked across the room to put the small paper bag in the bottom drawer of her desk, tucked under her journal. The maids already had strict instructions to leave this drawer alone and unless prompted, she could not imagine them going against her request. 

“We still have a while before daybreak,” Riza said as she settled beside Roy. He wrapped an arm around her and she laid her head against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, beat in her ears. She closed her eyes, willing the rhythmic chant to relax her. 

“I can’t stay all night. We do have to sleep now and then,” Roy said with a tease. “We should probably take tomorrow off too. A full night's rest would benefit us both.” 

It struck Riza how little thought she had given this affair before initiating it. Roy, on the other hand, had thought everything through. From preventing a catastrophic pregnancy to keeping up day to day appearances, he had the foresight to consider each and every detail. Riza had foolishly flounced into this whole thing, focused only on matters of the heart and forgetting entirely about common sense. 

“I suppose your right.” 

The two lay together, basking in each other’s’ company, their conversations light and carefree. Roy’s fingers twirled strands of Riza’s hair playfully as she ran hers up and down the broad plain of his chest. The bliss of the moment was not lost on either of them. 

When the clock on Riza’s bedside struck one, Roy reluctantly pulled himself away, instantly missing the radiating warmth of her body. 

“I need to go. If I stay any longer I’ll fall asleep,” Roy said as he began to dress himself. 

“I wish you could stay.” 

“I wish I could too,” he said as he slipped on his sleep shirt. Tying the drawstring of his pants, he moved back towards the bed, placing a chaste kiss on Riza’s forehead and then on her mouth. “For what it’s worth, I’d rather have this limited time with you than none at all.” 

Riza beamed at him and for a moment, under the beautiful glow of her deep, amber eyes, he was willing to throw his life away to wake up next to her. With a sobering breath, he reminded himself that doing so would not only damn himself, but Riza as well and he internally committed to stopping such thoughts before they occurred. He turned and headed across the room, opening the window to the frigid night air. 

“Goodnight, Roy,” Riza called softly. 

“Sleep well,” Roy said before crawling through the window and retreating back into the night. 

/-/-/

Riza woke to the soft sound of Carmela, one of the housemaids, tending to the fireplace across the bedroom. 

“Good morning, Lady Hawkeye,” Carmela said with a deep curtsey when she realized Riza was awake. “I hope you slept well.” 

“Yes I did, thank you,” Riza answered, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes as a yawn overtook her. 

“Breakfast is in an hour, but is there anything you need before?” 

“Not at all, thank you,” Riza said as she poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. She took a long sip as she looked out the window. Her eyes shot open at the familiar frost patterns of winter shown prominently on the window pane, still present despite the presence of the rising sun. That could only mean one thing. “Did it snow last night?” 

“Yes, my lady,” Carmela said as she placed the fire poker back into its rack. Wiping her soot-spotted hands on her apron, she turned to face Riza fully. “I believe it snowed a few inches. The ground is fully covered.” 

Riza loved the snow, particularly the first snowfall. Few things compared to the serenity after a gentle snowfall. The land would lay quiet, bringing a deep calm to Riza. 

“On second thought, please fetch my winter coat. I would like to go for a walk around the manor.” 

“Right away,” Carmela said. She stepped out of the room and into Riza’s closet, returning shortly with Riza’s fur-lined coat in hand. After fastening Riza into her warmest winter dress, Carmela held out the coat, securing the buttons down the front and handing Riza the matching hat and gloves. “There you go, my Lady. Is there anything else you require?” 

“No, thank you,” Riza said. “If anyone asks, I plan to attend breakfast.” 

“I will let Morgan know,” Carmela said with a final curtsey before she left the room. 

Twenty minutes later, Riza found herself wandering the grounds of the Hawkeye Manor, a trail of footsteps in the freshly laid snow outlining her journey. She headed towards the shooting range, more for comfort than intention, for Milton would need ample time to prepare the targets in this weather, but was stopped at the sound of her name. 

She turned to find her father, equally bundled up in his best furs, heading straight towards her. 

“There you are, Riza! What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death.” 

“I’m perfectly warm, father,” Riza answered, ignoring his question. She stopped walking and allowed him to catch up. 

“I went looking for you but Carmela said she had helped you dress for a walk around the grounds. Really, Riza, it just snowed. Be more reasonable,” Berthold said as he shook his head. “I came to find you to let you know that Bradley has requested your presence in town. He wanted to meet you for lunch at the Baelor Hotel.” 

“The Baelor Hotel?” Riza asked, confused. 

“He wants to dine with you alone,” Berthold explained. “And as you two are not yet married, it would be rather unbecoming if people knew you spent time together in private. He feels a public setting will be more acceptable. I wanted to find you quickly because I’m not sure how long it will take the carriage to head into town with this weather.” 

“Yes father,” Riza said. Internally, she groaned at the idea of entertaining Bradley and his lack of care and concern for who she was as a person. “I’m dressed for the day. I can leave straight after breakfast if that will give you peace of mind.” 

“Yes, you will,” Berthold agreed. “Mustang will be going into town with you. I have an errand for him to run while you are at lunch.”

If the bitter winter wind had not brought a natural flush to Riza’s nose and cheeks, she was certain her father’s words would have. He would die of a heart attack if he knew exactly why sending his daughter and his apprentice into town alone together was a bad idea.

“Yes, father.” 

“Now come on inside. It’s freezing. I don’t want you walking around outside again if it’s snowing.” 

/-/-/

“What errand does my father have you running today?” Riza asked as she snuggled up closer to Roy. The currents on the carriage were pulled closed to keep the cold out. 

“I’m to visit the Van Hoover’s.” Roy said as his hands joined Riza’s in her fur muff.

“Are they important clients?” 

“No. They are actually new to town. Milton and Melinda Van Hoover were recently married. Their family owns a series of successful lumber mills up north and they were sent to East City to expand the business. It’s always beneficial to have connections with lumber industries.” 

“Oh. I wouldn’t know. My father never discusses the business with me. You’re the only one he really trusts.” 

A small pang of guilt flashed across Roy’s face so quickly Riza did not catch it. “Your father isn’t the easiest man to work with. I’m just lucky enough he tolerates me.” 

“He doesn’t just tolerate you. He likes you. You’re the son he’s never had.” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t think that if he knew about us.” 

Riza rolled her eyes but did not offer a rebuttal. 

“It looks like we’re here,” Roy said. The carriage had stopped outside of a regal looking building. 

“How long will you be?” 

“About two hours. If I finish before your lunch is over, I’ll wait in the bar for you. Have a good lunch, Riza,” Roy said, his attempt at earnestly failing. He looked angry, livid even, at the idea of dropping her off to meet with her fiance. “Behave.” 

Riza rolled her eyes. “If anything, I should be telling you that.” 

By now, the hotel doorman had made their way down to the carriage. Riza opened the door and accepted one of their extended arms as she climbed out of the carriage, refusing to look back at Roy. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” one of the doormen said. “Will the gentlemen be joining us? Do you have any bags?” 

“No, I’m joining someone for lunch,” Riza said, waiving to the carriage driver to signal he was good to leave to the next designation. 

The doorman escorted her inside, promptly leaving her at the concierge desk. Riza checked in with the concierge, who confirmed Bradley’s lunch reservation and led her through the foyer and upstairs to a small, quaint restaurant. From across the room, Riza spotted Bradley sitting at a corner table by the window, head down, busy reading some paperwork in his hands. 

Riza graciously thanked the concierge for their assistance and turned to greet Lord Bradley. “Good afternoon, my lord.” 

“Riza, you look lovely. Please, sit,” Bradley said, not bothering to stand up to greet her. 

Riza took a seat directly across from Bradley. 

“I took the liberty of ordering lunch,” Bradley said. Riza nodded to indicate that she did not mind. “I hope the carriage ride wasn’t too difficult in this weather. I apologize. I made arrangements with your father last night before it began to snow.” 

“The carriage had no trouble at all,” Riza said softly. “I’m grateful it was a gentle snow.”

Two waiters appeared, wordlessly dropping off a small bowl of clam chowder. Riza had to stifle a grimace. She was not fond of clam chowder, but since Bradley had taken it upon himself to decide their meal, she was not going to appear difficult by rejecting his selection. She would have to bring up another time her dislike of most seafood. Reluctantly, she began to eat. 

“I requested your presence because my secretary is beginning to organize our wedding and I would like to hear if you have any opinions or requests.” 

Riza felt her stomach drop at his words. “Oh.” 

“I’d like to have the wedding in Central. It will be easier for all of my contacts to make it.” 

“Yes, that’s fine,” Riza said. She knew for Bradley, the wedding was as much of a networking event as a life milestone. 

“Ideally, I’d like to get married at the family church on March 15th.” 

“Of course.” 

“Do you have a particular flower you like? So far, my secretary has suggested roses, tulips or lilacs.” 

RIza’s favorite flowers were orchids, but it seemed clear that Bradley wanted her to pick from his list of suggestions. “Tulips. Yellow and white tulips if I can specify.” 

“You may,” Bradley said, as though talking to a child. “The reception will be held at my Central Estate. The main ballroom will comfortably fit two hundred people for dinner. How do you feel about beef wellington?” 

“I like it fine enough.” Finally, Riza finished her clam chowder, pushing the soup bowl away from her just in time for a simple chicken and vegetable dish to arrive. She sighed quietly in relief that Bradley had not selected the fish for lunch. 

“Good. I’ve already communicated with your father on my expectations for your guest list, but I do want to make sure your friends are properly invited, so please make sure they are included, even if they go over the number of invites I gave your father.” 

“Yes, sir,” Riza said with a smile, hoping it appeared as genuine. 

“I want you to enjoy this wedding, Riza. I know I’m making the majority of decisions because I am paying for it, but it is your wedding too. I am heading to Central tomorrow for the next few weeks to begin making serious arrangements. If you come up with any ideas for me to consider, please call or write. My secretary will be more than happy to relay a message.” 

How weird it was to be talking about her wedding as though it was a business transaction. Her fiance had shown up to lunch with the same boring propriety he used with his business colleges. His secretary would take a message for her, if something came to mind. Riza wanted to frown, but found that, for once, she felt similarly to Bradley. She was not excited for this wedding. She looked at it like a business transaction, but only because the wedding she really wanted would never happen. It did not matter if Bradley allowed her to plan and pick every single detail. He could arrange for her to have an unlimited budget and bring forth every whimsical desire her mind could create and it wouldn’t matter. As long as Bradley was the groom, there would be no way for Riza to find joy. 

“I promise,” Bradley said after a while. “I will create the most beautiful wedding for you.” 

“I trust you, my lord,” Riza said, her heart melting. 

She turned to look out the window, just in time to watch Roy walking up the stairs to the hotel, presumably to wait for her in the lobby bar. 

Little did she know that Bradley was keenly watching her as she gazed fondly out the window and down at her lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are officially halfway! If you loved it, or hated it, please let me know. I don't often respond to reviews because I'm awkward and overthink my responses, but they make my day a little bit brighter. :)


	14. The Puppet Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza catches Roy sneaking around her father's office and forces him to tell her the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow writer's block has been plaguing me lately. Even with my outline, this felt like pulling teeth to write, but I am happy with the result. Sorry it's late!

The rest of the meal passed without any fanfare. Riza sat there quietly as Bradley rambled incessantly about his business connections and plans. Clearly, he got off on this sort of stuff. The only saving grace was dessert- a small slice of apple pie, juicy and tart with a buttery crust, to Riza’s genuine delight. 

After the dessert dishes had cleared, Bradley stood up. “Allow me to escort you downstairs and to your carriage. I’m afraid I have somewhere to be.” 

“Thank you, my lord,” Riza said politely. She followed Bradley out of the restaurant and down the stairs of the hotel where, to her surprise, he entered the hotel bar instead of continuing outside towards the carriages. 

“There you are, Mustang,” Bradley said to one of the few gentlemen at the bar top. “I saw you entering the hotel from the upstairs window. I assume you’re Miss Hawkeye’s escort?” 

Roy set down the glass of whiskey he was entertaining and turned to offer Bradley a proper handshake. “Yes, sir. Master Hawkeye sent me on an errand, but it finished earlier than expected so I decided to enjoy a drink while I waited.” 

“Please put this gentlemen’s drink on my account, the name’s King Bradley,” Bradley said to the bartender, who eagerly nodded. “Take it as a thank you. It comforts me knowing that Riza did not have to travel in the snow alone.”

“Of course, Lord Bradley, it is my pleasure. I’ll pass the word along to Master Hawkeye. He sent me into town in the first place.” 

Bradley then turned to Riza, who was waiting patiently at his side. “I should get going now. I have a business meeting in about half an hour and they can’t start without me. Thank you again, Miss Hawkeye,” he leaned over and gave Riza a chaste kiss on the cheek. On the way out the door, he turned around, briefly glancing at the young pair, before adjusting his collar and going on his way. 

“Give me a second,” Roy said as he finished the rest of his drink. “Okay, let’s find the carriage. I want to get on the road as soon as possible. It looks like it’s going to snow again.” 

“Of course,” Riza said as she followed him out of the bar and through the hotel lobby, keeping an appropriate distance between herself and Roy. “How was your business meeting?” 

“Productive,” Roy said with a shrug. “But only time will tell if it will turn into a meaningful relationship for your father’s company.” 

“I trust it will,” Riza replied softly. 

The two climbed into the carriage, pulling back the curtains once the doors were secured, blocking out the outside world and with it, granting them freedom to move closer to each other. Roy’s arm slid around Riza’s waist and she leaned her nose into the curve of his neck. 

“So, tell me all about lunch. How annoying was it?” 

“There will be tulips at the wedding,” Riza sighed. “Yellow and white to be exact.” 

“That will be beautiful.” 

“I guess.” Riza pressed her nose deeper into his collarbone. “I honestly don’t want to think about it. Can we just enjoy each other's company for a moment?” 

Roy agreed, pulling Riza so close that if it wasn’t for the fullness of her skirt, she would be directly on his lap. With a content sigh, she entwined her fingers in his own, kissing the soft skin of his neck before closing her eyes and listening to the sounds of the carriage as it continued on down the road.

/-/-/

Master Hawkeye was the definition of a workaholic. Born from a family with respectable lands but a modest title, Berthold had thrown himself into his work at a young age. Industrialization had begun in East City when he was still in school, but by the time he had inherited control of the company from his father, owning factories was the business of choice for all respectable gentlemen. After Berthold’s wife had died a premature death, he threw every bit of himself into his work, spending countless hours in his study, analyzing price charts, market sales and anything else that would benefit his budding business. 

With this came a rapid expansion of his factories and, for the expenses he could not supply out front, a need for good investors and contacts. Berthold Hawkeye, though a business genius from the viewpoint of any spreadsheet, was not a people person and quickly struggled to make the crucial relationships needed to see his company prosper. 

When General Grumman had suggested an apprentice, Berthold had been apprehensive. He had no desire for one, but Grumman managed to convince him that the individual person he had in mind would be the answer to his questions. The boy, Roy Mustang, was the adopted son of a friend in Central. He was charismatic, good-looking and, most importantly, brilliant. The boy sounded almost too perfect, but against Berthold’s better judgement, he agreed to meet him. 

Roy Mustang had arrived at Hawkeye Manor in his Sunday best, hair falling out of his attempt to style it. Over lunch, it became clear that, aside from being perhaps a tad too confident, Roy was the answer to all of Berthold’s questions. 

A standard Amestrian apprenticeship is four years in length, beginning sometime between ages 12 and 15. At 14, it was agreed that Roy would live with the Hawkeyes until he became of age, at which point they could negotiate future employment or Roy would be able to venture off on his own. For the next four years, Roy charmed his way to the hearts of every business associate Berthold threw his way. The men thought his intelligence and work ethic were admirable. The women swooned at his good looks and hoped that strong business relationships would foster a personal one. Berthold grew fond of the boy, well, as fond of anyone Berthold could be. 

With this apprenticeship came certain privileges. Roy learned the intimate inner workings of the textile industry and enough general knowledge of business to apply to any future job. He learned about raw suppliers, the importance of a healthy and happy labor force and all of the tricky little details that make balancing the books a nightmare. By the end of his apprenticeship, he could have run the company in Berthold’s absence without any hesitation. 

This familiarity gave Roy exact knowledge on the layout of Berthold’s personal financial records, something he never thought he would need until now.

He had snuck in undetected twenty minutes after Berthold had left for a meeting in town. None of the servants would take a second glance at Roy entering the office, but the files Roy was looking for were not ones he needed to fulfill any of his business duties, so he still aired on the side of caution. 

The large wooden cabinet in the corner of the room held all of the year-end reports since the Hawkeye business started back in 1862. Shuffling through the rows of paperwork, Roy finally found what he was looking for. With a smile on his face, he pulled out the necessary folders, creating a small pile on the nearby desk. From here he would look for the exact pages he needed before returning everything back into the cabinet, undetected. 

“What are you doing?” 

The voice startled Roy and he turned around, eyes wide like a cornered animal. 

“I said, what are you doing? The cabinet is off limits to everyone except father.” Riza stood with her hands on her hips. 

Roy could not tell if Riza was genuinely angry or more curious about his answer to her question. “I’m looking for something at your father’s request. Besides, what are you doing here? He’d be just as unhappy your wandering into his study without permission” 

“I was going to borrow his chess set. He hasn’t used it since mom passed, so I doubt he would notice it missing,” Riza said, a small blush on her cheek. “You know, for tonight…” 

Her answer was almost cute enough for Roy to forget that he was in a compromising situation. 

“What are you even looking at?” Riza said, walking over to Roy and ripping the current paperwork out of his hands. “Expense reports? From 1888? What the hell? Why would my father need these?”

“For reference,” Roy answered a bit too quickly. 

“Why do I feel that’s a load of crap?” Riza said. 

“It’s not.” 

“So if I mention I helped you find this paperwork at dinner, he would be okay with it?”

He had been found out. With a loud swallow, he looked down at his shoes, too ashamed to meet Riza’s gaze. 

“Seriously?” Riza gasped, hurt layered in her voice. “You're spying on my father? For who? One of his competitors?” 

“No, Riza, it’s nothing like that,” Roy said. “I promise.” 

By now, Riza was fuming. She crossed her arms, fists clenched, and stamped her foot on the ground. “Explain this to me now, Roy or so help me-” 

“Riza, I promise I’m not working for the competition,” Roy said. “I promise. This isn’t what you think it is.” 

“If it’s not what I think it is then you would tell me,” Riza spat. “I can’t believe you!” 

“Riza-” 

“Stop ‘Riza’-ing me! I can’t believe you. First, you crush my heart, then you take my virginity and now, you’re spying on my father. Is that what all of this was about? Get close enough to our family to rob us of all our information. What the hell? I’ve been stupid enough to forgive you once. I have no intentions to do so again.” 

At Riza’s accusation that Roy had forged his relationship with her only to betray her, he knew that he had no choice but to explain the entire truth. Maes be damned. His best friend could yell at him for the rest of his life. He had no obligation to help him anyway. This was far outside of his military jurisdiction. 

“If I tell you the entire truth, will you believe me when I say that my only intentions were to be a good apprentice? And that everything between you and me is genuine?”

Riza paused for a moment, taking in Roy’s mannerism now that he had let his guard down. “Yes. But I want to know everything. I ask a question- any question- and you answer it. Truthfully. Understand?” 

“Of course,” Roy agreed. 

“Well…” Riza gestured to Roy to start explaining, an uncharacteristically impatient look on her face. 

“I’m assisting Hughes with a case.” 

This was nothing close to what Riza expected. Her expression faltered. “The government is investigating my father?” 

“No, at least not yet and not officially,” Roy said, swallowing his nerves. “A few months ago, one of the senior members of East Command defected from the military. The standard practice is for the Intelligence Department to conduct an audit to assist with preparing the case for court. The military needs to make sure they know what information, if any, the defector stole. We need to know if he is going to be a risk to society. All of this is very important so the department does a thorough job.” 

Roy paused, providing Riza the opportunity to ask questions. Instead she waved him on, encouraging him to continue. 

“A deeper investigation into his factory records showed… suspicious activity… to say the least.”

“Suspicious how?” 

“The officer in question was of noble blood. It’s very common for second and third sons to join the military. They are given a cushy rank in exchange for their family’s generous donations, but you already know that. This family, in particular, owns a steel mill. A steel mill that fulfilled the order for 10,000 new rifle parts in the Spring of 1888.” Roy looked at Riza, confusion etched on her features. “The Ishvalan Civil War started in the fall of 1888. This factory was the main supplier of weapons throughout the conflict, but that doesn’t explain why they were manufacturing for war before it had even started.” 

“So what does that have to do with my father?” Riza asked seriously. 

“Hughes did some digging focused on other rich, notable families with members in the military. It turns out this is not an anomaly. Can I see the paper in your hands?” Riza offered them without hesitation and Roy flipped through the file for a few moments before finding exactly what he was looking for. “Here.” 

Riza walked over so she was now standing beside Roy and, reading over his shoulder, muttered, “It’s a fabric order. I don’t get it. My father owns textile factories. Fabric is what he does.” 

“It’s a fabric order for 5,000 white cloaks. White cloaks that were only issued as part of the military uniform in Ishval. They helped to keep our skin out of the sun.” 

“How can you be so sure? It’s just a fabric order, Roy.”

“It’s not,” Roy said. “Hughes has on file that our cloaks were ordered and supplied by Hawkeye Industries, they just never outlined the date these orders started.” 

“Okay, so my father provided outfits for the military. I don’t understand the concern.”

“The problem, Riza, is that the cloaks were also ordered in the Spring of 1888. Somehow, somewhere, someone was making large supply orders for a war that had yet to start.” 

“Oh…” Riza said, now finally grasping the situation. A deep pit settled in her stomach at the haunting reality Roy was beginning to reveal.

“Hughes believes that the government intended for the Civil War to happen all along. Think about it Riza- the Ishvalan War began because an officer shot accidentally shot a child. But what if it wasn’t an accident?” 

Riza’s face had grown pale by now, worry framing her delicate features. “How much evidence do you have to support this theory?” 

“Enough,” Roy said. “Recently, Hughes discovered that another textile factory, the Archers, were stockpiling gunpowder around the exact same time your father signed the contract for the first 5,000 white cloaks. Why would they need to keep gunpowder in their storage units? But these are not isolated incidents. Every major industry in East City that Hughes has been able to investigate has had one shady business deal or another all in the spring of 1888.” 

“My father hates the Archers. Why would he conspire against him to help create a war for profit?”

“I thought the same thing. I’m actually double checking these files to see if your father ever did business with the Archers. I was at the academy at the time, so I can’t recall.”

“And if there is no connection?” 

“For the sake of your family that’s what I’m hoping for,” Roy said seriously. “In actuality, if there’s no connection, that may be worse. If these orders are seemingly unrelated, then there is a large chance that all of these companies simply agreed because of the huge payoff it would bring. The military always pays top dollar and always pays in full. It’s not an offer most would turn down- besides, unless we start interrogating the business owners themselves, we have no proof they were even aware why the government was ordering what they did.” 

“So if it’s not the business owners, then… someone was willing to arrange an entire war, prepare the Amestrian Military months in advance and manipulate the people to believe a lie. Someone high enough in the military to have this sort of silent influence.”

“Like a puppet master pulling the strings.” 

“Exactly. Hughes isn’t certain this occurrence is unique to East City either. In the past twenty years, all four major areas have been in violent conflict one way or another. He’s currently in West City, visiting Gracia’s family, but he hopes their connections can help him start an investigation there.” 

“Hmmm,” Riza said. She moved away from Roy and sat down in her father’s chair. “Promise me you won’t do something stupid and make enemies out of someone powerful. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Making a target of yourself for the upper brass of the military is not a laughing matter.” 

“I won’t Riza, this is my job.” 

“It’s Maes’s job. You’re still on medical leave.” The worry in her eyes was real. 

Roy walked over to where Riza was sitting and knelt down in front of her. With one hand, he stroked her cheek reassuringly. With the other, he grasped her own hand tight. “Riza, I promise. Nothing will happen to me.” 

“Good.” She let out a breath she had been unaware she was holding. “I’d like to believe it is an evil puppet master. My father is a lot of things, mostly negative, but he’s not someone who would conspire to send innocent soldiers and civilians to their deaths for a quick buck.” 

“I know he’s not. That’s why we are going to get to the bottom of this,” Roy said. “I told you, the Ishvalan Civil War was crueler than anything I ever thought I’d witness in my life. It makes sense that a war that terrible would have even worse origins.” 

“Is there any way I can help?” 

“Actually, yes…” Roy said. Although he had not been expecting Riza to offer his assistance, now that the offer was on the table, he realized how valuable it truly was. “We want to get records of Catalina Distilleries from around the same time. I’m not sure what we would be looking for, seeing as the military never orders liquor for their troops, but there are plenty of other things those factories could be used for.” 

“I can do that,” Riza said. “I’ll tell Rebecca as little as possible, but I know she will help. You can trust her Roy. I promise. Besides, Rebecca is going to find our little… situation… much more interesting than anything paperwork.” 

“Good. I’m going off your word for that. There’s one more thing, but I don’t want you agreeing to it if you’re not absolutely certain. The consequences, should you get caught, will be grave.” 

“Of course, anything.” 

“We need to investigate Bradley and Company.”


	15. New Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza asks Rebecca for a favor. Roy gets the honor of giving Bradley's friend a tour of Hawkeye Industries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a little time off to help clear my head. Hopefully this chapter was worth it! Thank you all for reading. :)

“Something’s different about you today.” 

Riza looked up from her needlepoint, face clear of emotion. “Huh?”

“You seem… Well honestly, you seem more distracted than usual. You’re not one to daydream but for the past five minutes, you’ve been smiling into your lap. What’s going on, Riza?”

Riza’s eyes quickly swept the room. Once she was certain that they were truly alone, she turned back to Rebecca. “You can’t tell anyone Becca. You have to promise me. Not even your sisters.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows raised, clearly intrigued by the sudden seriousness in Riza’s tone. Moving her chair closer, she reached out and grabbed her best friend’s wrist, face furrowed with a frown. “What is it? Is something wrong?” 

“No, not at all. It’s the opposite actually.” To her surprise, Riza found her face flushing red with heat and her tongue growing heavy as she struggled to find the right words to say. “It’s just-” 

“It’s about Mustang, isn’t it?” Rebecca offered, practically reading Riza’s mind. “You kissed him again, didn’t you? That has to be it. Riza Hawkeye doesn’t get flustered- with one expectation, of course. One military man of an exception.” 

“Yes,” Riza confirmed, her voice small. There would be no benefit to the household staff overhearing. “And more.” 

“More?”

Riza only nodded in confirmation, waiting for Rebecca’s reaction. Her best friend nearly jumped out of her seat, grabbing Riza’s hands and pulling her up and into a hug. 

“I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” Rebecca laughed as she embraced her best friend. “Oh, this is wonderful!” 

“Is it?” Riza asked, her tone betraying her enthusiasm and excitement. “I’m engaged to be married.” 

“Yeah, to a creepy old bastard old enough to be your grandfather. But Mustang, Mustang is a dime Riza,” Rebecca giggled as she gave her best friend one last squeeze before letting her go. “But more importantly, how did this happen? I go one week without seeing you and you turn into some kind of harlot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m overwhelmingly proud, but I’ve clearly missed a lot.” 

The two women spent the next ten minutes huddled together as Riza quietly recounted their conversation at her engagement party, her bold invitation and Roy’s surprise acceptance. As she summarized the week’s events, Riza could not help but notice that this was perhaps the quietest Riza had ever seen Rebecca. Her best friend sat there, eye’s wide, drinking in every word of her best friend's clandestine romance. 

“This is practically a fairytale,” Rebecca gushed once Riza had finished her story. 

“No it’s not. All of this, no matter how wonderful, will have to end when I marry and move to Central.”

“Says who?” Rebecca scrunched her nose. “Lots of people have lovers. You would hardly be the first. My oldest sister’s husband-”

“Rebecca, it’s going to end when I move. We’ve already agreed. Besides, Roy will be back in active duty by then and what good would I be to him? He has no title. Just money and status through his connections and military achievement. He has an actual chance to get on with his life and find a woman who will not only love him, but will be able to love him openly like his friend Hughes. Who am I to deny him that?” 

This had never occurred to Rebecca and instantly she realized that, while an expiration date on their affair will surely break her best friend’s heart, it made complete sense. Roy’s life was open. He was young, handsome and successful. Once he had moved on from his feelings for Riza, there would be nothing stopping him from having a family of his own. A family he truly deserved. 

Although, if Rebecca was honest, she knew Riza deserved a family like that too.

Riza must really care for him, Rebecca thought to herself. She’s fully aware her own future is set, as gray and bleak as the winter, but she’s willing to let go of Roy regardless so he can one day find his own, long term happiness. 

“I understand,” Rebecca said with a soft smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. Even if it is only temporary.” 

“Thanks Becca,” Riza said. “You’re the only person I have to talk to about these things.”

“You know I’m always here.” 

“Speaking of which, I have something else to discuss with you.”

“What is it?” Rebecca had no idea what else her best friend wanted to talk about, but decided to indulge her. 

“Do you remember Roy’s colleague, Maes Hughes?” 

“The cheerful married one with the glasses?” 

Riza nodded. “He’s doing an, um, an investigation of some sorts and would like to know if his findings are typical or atypical. To do this, he needs documents from a bunch of the wealthy families around town. However, to ensure that nothing taints his data, he needs someone he can trust to be discrete.” 

“You need me to take documents from my father’s office? Yeah I can do that,” Rebecca agreed. 

Riza blinked twice, confused by how quickly Rebecca agreed to her request. Riza had mentally prepared herself to be interrogated by Rebecca and had spent hours practicing this conversation in her head until she was fully confident she could answer all of her best friend’s questions without giving up too much information. 

“Really? Just like that? You- Rebecca Catalina herself- don’t have any questions?” 

Rebecca shrugged as she picked her needlework back up before tossing it aside once again. “I understand the need for discretion is even greater in the military than in the bedroom. Besides, you don’t ask for things often Riza. I can’t recall the last time you came to me for a favor. It’s the least I can do.” 

“Oh,” Riza said. “In that case…” She stood up and walked over to her desk on the opposite side of the room. After rummaging around the bottom drawer, she pulled out a piece of paper. “Roy prepared this just in case you agreed right away. If you have any questions, let us know,” She said as she rejoined Rebecca by the fireplace. 

Rebecca took the paper, briefly looking it over. “So far, no questions. I’ll see what I can do.” 

/-/-/ 

“The ledge is getting quite slippery,” Roy said as he finished pulling himself through Riza’s window. “I need to be more careful. Falling to death in my pajamas is not how I want to go.”

The window latched behind him as Riza’s giggle filled the room. 

“Is Romeo afraid of a little climb?” She teased as Roy joined her on the bed. She was sitting on top of the covers, her winter dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. 

“Not afraid, cautious,” Roy said with a small smirk as he captured her lips. “Even if I survived the fall, I could be paralyzed. Or worse, someone would hear and I would have to explain why I was scaling the side of the Hawkeye estate in my nightwear.” 

Riza returned his kiss, her lips curved into a soft smile. “You’d surely wish you were dead then. I can only imagine what my father would do if he discovered the desperate lengths you take to defile his daughter.” 

Roy’s lips left Riza’s as he began to work his way down her neck, peppering her skin with light, airy kisses. “The same daughter who leaves her window unlocked, mind you.” 

“It gets stuffy in here. A fresh breeze is welcomed,” Riza teased as she failed to suppress the small moan that escaped her lips in response to Roy’s attention.

He began to run his hands alongside her body. “I think you’d find my services preferable if I’m not paralyzed either.” 

“Your services?” Riza pulled Roy off of her neck, giving him a partially serious look before placing a light kiss on his nose. “Is that what we are calling this?” 

Roy moved, positioning his body directly over Riza, one hand on either side of her head, supporting his weight. He paused, allowing himself to admire the view. 

Riza’s hair was splayed across her bedsheets, no longer entrapped by the proper bun she kept it in during the day. He loved her hair. In the two weeks since the start of their affair, Roy had discovered that, once they had tired themselves, there was nothing he enjoyed more than holding her close and stroking his fingertips through her blonde locks. 

“Act of kindness, then,” Roy teased as he reached down to pull the hem of Riza’s nightgown higher. She lighted her hips to assist him until the gown was comfortably pooled along her upper thigh. 

“Kindness, what a gentleman.” She winked and, for a moment, Roy felt like time had stopped. 

“You won’t be thinking I’m a gentleman when I’m finished with you,” He practically growled as he recaptured her neck, biting on the skin as hard as he dared without risking a mark. “Now be a good girl and moan for me.” 

As Roy steadily ventured into her room every other night, Riza had begun grasp at the intricates of sex. Roy was the perfect partner, patient and kind and understanding and receptive and fully aware that the extent of Riza’s private school education had taught her nothing beyond laying on your back and allowing your husband to do as he pleased. 

Roy, however, openly enjoyed taking his time to show Riza new things and fill her with new sensations. The first time he had flipped her onto all fours, she had practically bitten her tongue trying to keep quiet as he relentlessly took her from behind. When she had dropped to her knees, eager to please but uncertain where to start, he had calmly guided her until he finished with such unexpected force it threw Riza off and caused her to make a small mess of herself. He had also taken to encouraging her to take charge, guiding her hips with his hands until she learned the rhythm that drove him wild. 

Riza let out a small moan as Roy began to move. With one hand, he grabbed her own, entwining their fingers together. With the other, he slowly lifted her leg, first pulling it around her waist and then up and over her shoulder. He captured her lips as she let out a miniature shriek as he reached deeper, her body flushing with pleasure. 

“That’s my girl,” Roy whispered in her ear, giving it a quick lick for good measure. “Take it.” 

Riza shut her eyes, seeing stars as Roy carried her up and up and up. Opening her eyes, she found Roy gazing down at her, his eyes dark with lust and cheeks flushed with effort. 

“Roy- please,” Riza gasped, her voice breaking. “Just a little bit-” 

She bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cry as she unraveled beneath him. As she started to come down from her high, she could feel Roy’s urgency as he thrusted into her, the sensation overwhelming and unrelenting. Scrunching his face, Roy slipped out of her last minute, coming with a muffled cry of his own all over her thighs. 

Leaning his sweat-soaked forehead onto her own, he smiled, chest still heaving. “I will never get tired of that.” 

Riza smiled in response, running her fingers down his face as he collected his breath. Once his breathing had begun to level out, Roy slowly climbed off of her, fetching a rag from her bathroom to help clean up the mess he had made. 

“This is a good look for you,” he said, lips parted in amusement. “Naked, flustered and covered in my cum.” 

“Don’t be so gross,” Riza said as she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m being honest. I find it incredibly hot.” 

“Just clean me up, will you?” 

Roy laughed as he finished wiping his mess off of Riza. Once cleaned, she stood up and quietly left for her adjacent bathroom. When she returned, Roy was fully dressed, laying in bed flipping casually through one of the books on her bedside. 

“I haven’t started that one yet, so don’t give anything away,” Riza teased as she moved to join him underneath the covers. 

“I don’t know how you read these romance novels,” Roy said, half amused. “My sisters read these too. Doesn’t it make real life seem so… uneventful? Who chases after a train on horseback to profess their love?”

“I’d like to think that real life is even better,” Riza said, smiling. She reached over and pulled the book from Roy’s grasp, setting it on the bedside table. “Sure, you’ll never duel another man for my hand in marriage, but there’s something about having a secret midnight lover that’s even sexier.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Speaking of your sisters, how are they?” 

Roy shrugged. “Busy as ever. Business is going well for Madam’s new bar. It’s closer to Central Headquarters so they get more officers with bigger pockets.” 

“That’s good,” Riza said absentmindedly. She paused for a moment. “Have you decided if you’re going home for Christmas?” 

“I haven’t thought about it.” This was the truth. Between their late night visits, his daily work with Master Hawkeye and helping out Hughes, the holidays had skipped his mind. “I probably should. I haven’t been home since summer. Besides, it would look suspicious if I suddenly spent Christmas here.” For as long as Roy had studied under Master Hawkeye, Roy had always taken the train home to Central for the holidays. 

“That’s rational, I suppose,” Riza frowned. “I will miss you.” 

“We still have a few weeks,” Roy smiled gleefully. A brilliant compromise had just occurred to him. “Besides, what if I promised to be back before New Year’s this time?” 

At his suggestion, Riza’s eye lit up as a smile engrossed her entire face. “That’s a lovely compromise.” 

“Good, then I’ll make arrangements to do just that,” Roy said. “Now that I think about it, going home really is the only option. I need to see if my mother would be willing to assist with Hughes’ investigation and that’s not a conversation I’m comfortable sending over a letter.” 

“Rebecca said she would help. She came over for tea while you were out.” 

“Oh, really? I hope it wasn’t too hard for you to convince her.” 

“Actually just the opposite. She barely asked a single question and said she understood the military needed to keep things discrete. I gave her your note, so if she calls with any questions, I’ll let you know.” 

“Did you tell her about us?” Roy asked. 

“Yes,” Riza sighed. She brought her fingers to her temple and began to massage it. “Now that was a nightmare. She wanted to know every detail. That woman has no shame.” 

“She doesn’t strike me as someone who would.” 

“She doesn’t, does she?” Riza said as she turned to the clock on the wall. “It’s almost midnight. How late can you stay tonight?” 

“Not very,” Roy admitted. “I have to go to the factories tomorrow to give a new business partner a tour.”

Grabbing the rejected romance book back from the side table, Riza tentatively held it out. “Read to me?” 

“One chapter.” 

/-/-/

The industrial zone of East City lined the southwestern most region of the river banks. Several dozen factories, owned and operated by the city’s elite, littered the landscape, plums of smoke and steam emitting from each building day in and day out. Hawkeye Industries comprised of three factories, side by side, each specializing in a particular textile. 

The carriage had made good time despite the respectable layer of snow on the ground. Roy found himself shuffling into the factory around the same time the second shift of workers arrived. The employees all greeted him with a chaste nod as he passed, hurrying straight past the main work room and upstairs to the second story offices. 

Master Hawkeye was already settled in his office and deep into his work, having skipped breakfast to start the day bright and early. He did not bother to look up at the sound of Roy’s footsteps, too engrossed in the paperwork before him. 

Roy cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “Good morning, Master Hawkeye.” 

Finally, Berthold allowed himself a moment’s distraction. “Ah, Roy, good morning. You’re right on time, as always. The Cleary’s just sent over a revised proposal. I’m trying to review it before our lunch meeting. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble managing the factory tour by yourself?” 

“It will be my pleasure,” Roy said with a smile. 

“Good. Go wait downstairs so you can greet our guest outside. Bradley sent them our way after giving us a glowing review so I trust you understand how important this is?” 

“Absolutely. Is there anything else you need before I head back downstairs?” 

“No, that’s all.” With that, Berthold once again turned his full attention to the paper on his desk, blocking out everything else in the room. 

Roy left the office and headed downstairs to find his timing perfect. A large, regal carriage was rolling up the main entrance of the factory. The carriage itself was a spectacle, painted in bright, vivid colors. Four Clydesdales, perfectly groomed, are pulling the carriage. Whoever is inside has money and wants everyone around to know it, Roy deduced.

Roy is both familiar with new money and old money. Old money families, such as the Grumman’s and the Hawkeye’s, cling to their titles and their lands, despite their true value being in their business. Anyone with enough money can own a factory, he remembers Master Hawkeye saying in a long ago lesson, but few people are of high enough status to be granted a proper title of nobility. 

New money families know this. They are aware that in the eyes of their counterparts they are forever lesser because they have made their money from innovation and developing industries, not because of their bloodline. Because of this, those with new money tend to spend their wealth on displays of grandeur, such as the monstrosity rolling up the road before him. This could only be a new money purchase.

The carriage slowed to a halt and Roy motioned for one of the factory attendees to assist with opening the carriage door. A man, dressed in a full white suit and top hat, climbed out. As he straightened out the imaginary wrinkles of his coat, he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. 

“Mister Kimblee, it’s an honor to meet you,” Roy said as he approached. He held out a hand, which Kimblee gruffly shook. “I’m Roy Mustang, Berthold Hawkeye’s former apprentice and current assistance.” 

“You’re the injured soldier, aren’t you?” 

If Roy was surprised that Kimblee knew this, he did not let on. “Yes, although my recovery is going well. I’m expected to be back in active duty by March.” 

“Bradley’s spoken about you. I’ll have to decide for myself what I think.” 

Not missing a beat, Roy continued on, determined to show Kimblee the full spectrum of Mustang hospitality. “I take it your trip here was pleasant?” 

“It was bearable,” Kimblee sighed. “Now come on, let’s get this over with. I have a meeting with the military at three and I’d like the chance to have a few drinks first.”


	16. Playing with Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mister Kimblee comes to dinner. Roy's nightmares come to life.

Approximately fifteen minutes into their tour of the factory, Roy decided that he deeply disliked Solf Kimblee. For being a first time guest, the man held himself on too high of a pedestal. Hawkeye Industries, though only based in East City, was not a small business venture. The way Kimblee stomped around as though his decision to partner up with Master Hawkeye would save the company irritated Roy much more than he imagined. They didn’t need his business and frankly, if it wasn’t for the fact that Bradley had recommended Kimblee himself, Roy would have tried his best to sabotage the factory tour without Master Hawkeye ever finding out. 

Unfortunately for Roy, Kimblee was Bradley’s esteemed referral, so he was stuck putting on his best face and smiling his way through the irritation. 

So instead, they wandered through the complex with Kimblee snapping out small quips and insults intentionally loud enough for Roy to hear. 

“This place is a lot smaller than I thought,” Kimblee said nonchalantly. 

“When you have your productivity as perfected as we do, you don’t need a large facility,” Roy said without missing a beat. 

“That sounds like a load of crap.” 

“Master Hawkeye pays his workers 20% more than the other textile industries in the area. Happy workers like their jobs and work harder to keep them. It’s quite realistic and the investment in our employees pays for itself.” 

“Mmm,” Kimblee said. “Who cares.”

Roy did not dignify Kimblee’s statement with a response, choosing instead to climb the staircase on their left. They climbed in silence for a few moments. 

“So you live with the Hawkeyes?” 

This caught Roy by surprise. “Yes, I do. At least through this winter until I am cleared from my injury leave with the military.” 

“What’s his daughter like? Is she as pretty as Bradley says?”

Roy’s breath hitched at Kimblee’s question. He paused, trying to think of how to answer without raising any suspicion. Beating around the bush would look questionable, he reasoned. It was best to be honest, but vague. “Lady Hawkeye is a bit younger than myself and was often away in boarding school during my apprenticeship so I only know her mildly well, but yes, she is quite pretty.”

“That’s a relief. I have no idea why Bradley was so insistent on marrying her. Daughters from every notable family in Amestris were interested. He had so many desirable options and he chose the daughter of a small country lord? I mean, I know her grandfather is in charge of Eastern Command, but Bradley is not lacking in military connections either. He really has nothing to gain marrying this one.” 

“Master Hawkeye hasn’t discussed his daughter’s courtship with me in detail. I’m afraid I have no insight to share.” 

“You’re a man just filled with propriety, aren’t you?” Kimblee chuckled. “You don’t have to keep stroking your master’s dick, Mustang. There is no way Berthold is as upstanding a guy as you make him seem. I won’t tell him what you say.” 

“I’m merely performing my duties as his assistant to the best of my abilities,” Roy said as he stopped outside the door to Master Hawkeye’s office. “For the record, I do quite enjoy working for the Hawkeye’s. I don’t intend to ruin this relationship with unnecessary or careless slander.” He knocked on the door twice before hearing a small voice welcome them in. 

Master Hawkeye was sitting at his desk waiting for them. 

“You must be Solf Kimblee. I’m Berthold Hawkeye, owner of this fine complex.” 

“Nice to meet you. Your boy Roy here was just telling me all about how much he enjoys working under you.” 

It struck Roy as slightly alarming how much of a flip Kimblee had just done. With Roy, Kimblee was blunt, negative and unafraid to speak his mind. The man in front of him seemed to be the traditional businessman Roy had initially expected. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he made no mention of the difference.

“I hope Roy’s tour was enjoyable,” Berthold said with a smile. 

“Yes, quite so. Your facilities are quite impressive.” 

“I’m delighted to hear that. Bradley has been ranting and raving about you all week, so I’ll admit I was a little anxious to meet you.” 

“You flatter,” Kimblee said. “Bradley has a lot of friends in every corner of society. I am merely one of them. Congratulations on your daughter's engagement, by the way. I am sure you are very proud.” 

“I am, thank you. I always knew my Riza would do well for herself, but her marriage exceeded even my highest expectations.” 

Roy stood there silently, closely observing the exchange. His initial dislike for Kimblee was slowly morphing into a deep distrust. His aunt had a saying, to never trust a man whose only kind to those with titles, and so far, Kimblee was perfectly fitting the bill. 

“I’m afraid I don't have much time to sit around and get acquainted today,” Berthold reluctantly said after a few minutes. “I have a meeting with my lawyer that I cannot afford to reschedule. How long are you in town for?” 

“Until the day after tomorrow. I will be accompanying Bradley back to Central.” 

“Would you care to come over for dinner tonight? If your plans allow, of course.” 

“I would love to. It just so happens I have no dinner plans this evening” Kimblee said, his smile way too eager and way too wide for Roy’s liking. 

“Good. I’ll leave you with Roy. He can flesh out the details with you. It was wonderful to meet you, Solf. I will see you tonight. Roy, please make sure Master Kimblee has the directions to our estate. I’m headed into town. I will see both of you tonight,” Berthold said as he gathered his things to leave the room. “Please lock up the office when you leave, Mustang.” 

The door closed and Roy was left alone with Kimblee once again. 

“Guess I’ll get to decide if his daughter is as good looking as they say sooner than I thought,” Kimble said with a smirk. 

Roy sighed, deciding once again it was best to bite his tongue. 

/-/-/

To Roy’s relief, Master Hawkeye had decided to minimize the fanfare for their dinner with Kimblee. 

He arrived back at Hawkeye Manor shortly before 4 to find Riza waiting for him in the parlor. 

“My father wanted me to remind you to dress a little nicer this evening for our guest,” she said, giving him a small smile. 

Roy rolled his eyes. “Why does he think I need a reminder? I’ve been his apprentice for almost a decade.” 

“You know that’s just how he is.” 

Roy sat down on one of the chairs, loosening his tie. “Did he mention any special plans for tonight? Kimblee is a good friend of Bradley’s.” 

“No,” Riza said as she walked over to where Roy was sitting. After scanning the room to ensure no staff was lingering, she wrapped her arms around him and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “With luck, dinner tonight will be rather routine. How was your day, my dear?” 

“Insufferable. Please wear the ugliest dress you own for dinner tonight.” 

Riza raised an eyebrow in response. 

“Kimblee kept asking if I knew Hawkeye’s daughter and if I thought she was a looker. He gives me bad vibes. Stay away from him, Riza.” 

“You said I was hideous; I hope?” Riza teased as she unwrapped her arms around his neck. She walked around the chair and sat down next to Roy, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. 

“Of course. Terribly, terribly hideous,” He smirked as he laced his fingers with her own, bringing the back of her palm to his lips. “I assured him I barely know you. Told him you were in boarding school for most of our youth so we never truly got a chance to know each other. I don’t know what he’s going to tell Bradley.” 

Riza nodded. “That’s smart. You should go wash up. I asked Margaret to start a bath for you. It should be ready by now.”

“I probably should,” Roy sighed. He stood up and turned to exit the room. “I’m serious, Riza. Your ugliest dress.” 

An hour later, freshly shaved and dressed in his business dress suit typically reserved for meetings of high importance, Roy reluctantly entered the Hawkeye dining room to find Master Hawkeye already chatting with their esteemed guest for the night. 

“Roy! So lovely for you to join us,” Berthold said as he beckoned Roy to join the conversation. “I was just telling Kimblee about our plans for expanding into South City by next year’s end.” 

Roy was familiar with the plan. Bradley’s connections and resources, openly at Bethold’s disposal once Riza was married off, would finally make the last few obstacles blocking their expansion possible. 

“While I eagerly await returning to active duty, I will regret missing the expansion,” Roy said with a genuine smile. “I trust your meeting with the military went well?” 

Kimblee shrugged his shoulders. “As well as a meeting with those blue woolen pigs can go. I see why Bradley got out when he did.” 

Part of Roy agreed. Hughes’s investigation had only nurtured the part of him that had grown disenchanted with the military. The other part of Roy wanted to fuck with Kimblee just for kicks. 

Before Roy could come up with a retort, footsteps sounded behind him. 

“Ah, Riza!” 

Riza glanced over to her father, who was motioning for her to join them. She had humored Roy and was dressed in a pale yellow dress that, while she still looked utterly beautiful, gave her complexion the impression she was even paler than she was. 

“Good evening, Father, Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang, Mister Kimblee,” Riza said, offering a polite courtesy to Kimblee, hand outstretched. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Hawkeye. I’ve heard wonderful things about you,” Kimblee said as he kissed the back of Riza’s hand. 

The doors at the end of the room opened and Morgan entered the room pushing a small serving cart.

“Dinner is served, ladies and gentlemen.”

The small dinner group took their seats, Roy at Berthold’s left and Riza at his right. To Roy’s internal despair, Kimblee sat down right beside Riza. 

“What’s on the menu for tonight, Morgan?” Berthold asked as the faithful family chef began to serve them. 

“Tonight we have an oven baked bass with Brussels sprouts and potatoes. Dessert later will be a chocolate layer cake.” 

“Morgan’s family has been cooking for the Hawkeye’s for as long as I’m aware. He’s the best cook I know,” Berthold said to Kimblee with a nod. He grabbed his fork and knife. “I hope you find it to your satisfaction.” 

“We are about to find out,” Kimblee said. He took a bite. “So are you excited about your marriage little lady?” Kimblee turned to Riza mid-chew. 

To her credit, Riza did not falter. “I’m delighted that Lord Bradley sees my potential as his wife.” 

“Just pop out those babies and he’ll be yours until the cows come home.” 

Roy felt Berthold’s weight shift beside him in discomfort at Kimblee’s statement. 

Unphased, Riza kept her eyes on her plate. “How’s your meal, Mister Kimblee?”

“Acceptable enough. It’s been difficult to find decent food in this city, so I’m pleasantly surprised.” 

By now, Roy could tell that Berthold was beginning to notice that the prim and proper presentation Kimblee had displayed back at the factory wasn’t his true personality. “So tell me more about yourself, Kimblee. Specifically, your work.” 

“Ah, I’m a negotiator,” Kimblee said as he took a large bit of his fish. “As Bradley told you, I spend a lot of time connecting my clients to other businesses and investments that suit their needs. I mentioned to Roy that I currently have a few clients in Central looking for just your type of factory. You would be surprised how lazy some people are and what they will pay to get out of scouting and arranging these contracts for themselves.” 

“Not all business owners have the disposition to work for the company themselves. At the same time, not all people are good businessmen just because they are rich,” Berthold countered. 

“Exactly. I talk to these old geezers and find out their budget and what they need. I make it happen better and faster than they ever expected and they pay me a handsome sum and keep me on their board as a consultant. I’ve never heard of a quicker way to get rich. You just need to know your way around a business contract.” 

“Do you do this kind of negotiating for Lord Bradley?” Riza asked. 

“Oh no. Bradley likes to do all of his own work. His standard is so high, if I hadn’t seen it accomplish it myself, I would believe the man to be mad. It’s probably why Bradley Industries was the one who managed to lock down the biggest military contact in history. Well, that and the fact that it is pretty easy to get your old war buddies to sign a contract benefiting both parties.” 

“Your business ventures with the military must be fruitful having Bradley as a reference,” Roy said as he took a sip of his water. How desperately he wished it was whiskey.

“It helps. A lot of my clients are former military nobles with second and third sons currently in the service. They know I can get them exactly what they want. I always do. I make it a point to treat my military families with high regard. You never know when that type of connection will come in handy” 

It may have been Roy’s imagination, but Kimblee’s words almost sounded like a challenge to the young officer. Looking down at his plate to feign concentration on his meal, Roy wracked his brain for any recollection of the name Solf Kimblee from when he was still in active duty in the military. Nothing came to mind. Making a mental note to ask Hughes about their unpleasant dinner guest, Roy returned his focus to the conversation. 

“Then I hope that Hawkeye Industries will be exactly what your current clients need,” he said cheerfully. 

“Yes, it just might be,” Kimblee said as his eyes turned to look at Riza. “It just might be.” 

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully as Berthold transitioned the conversation to the potential contracts Kimblee had for Hawkeye Industries. Riza, not one for business talk, politely nodded at the men’s exchange. If she noticed Kimblee’s gaze occasionally roaming over her face, she did not react. 

There was something about Kimblee that deeply unsettled Roy. He had decided at the factory to not trust Kimblee as far as he could throw him, but watching as the man’s beady eyes took to Riza’s direction continuously throughout the night, he decided that if there was something Kimblee was hiding, he was going to find out. 

/-/-/

Fire. No matter what direction Roy turned, angry blazes towered over him. 

The city was burning, sky black with smoke. All around him screams sounded as residents desperately fought to avoid being consumed by the flames. Everywhere he looked, he could see death. 

“Roy! What are you still doing here? The bridge is about to collapse!” Hughes’ voice rang out, breaking Roy’s thoughts. 

Roy turned around to look at his best friend. Hughes’ face was covered in soot, his white clock almost grey. “Sorry…” His voice died out. “I had to make sure it was finished.” 

“Was the large pillar of fire not enough?” Hughes was now frantic. “Come on, Roy. Move!” 

Hughes beckoned for Roy to follow him and began to sprint up what remained of the pathway and Roy, after taking one last look around, quickly chased after him. 

They ran down the pathway and out of town, only stopping once they had reached the car waiting for them.

“Captain Hughes! What took so long? We were worried,” the car’s driver stated as the two climbed in. “Nice work, Flame Alchemist.” 

Roy lowered his gaze, ignoring the supposed compliment. 

The car’s engine roared. As the city grew smaller, Roy forced himself to watch the burning skyline. His penance, he supposed. 

No one spoke as the vehicle whirled it’s way through the desert and back to headquarters. Soon, the city had vanished from sight and the only reminder of Roy’s work was the large, black plume interrupting the otherwise cerulean sky. 

A loud bang sounded and before Roy could react, their vehicle began to spin wildly out of control, crashing into the loose sand that lined the established road. 

They were being ambushed. Someone had shot their back tire, effectively stranding them. From behind a large sand hill, the barrels of guns pointed in their direction. 

“Don’t move!” A loud voice sounded. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Roy said calmly. 

“Move and we will shoot!” 

Snap. 

There is nothing that compares to the agony of burning alive. No matter how many people he sent to the grave, Roy would never get used to the screams of pure torture as his victims were slowly eaten by fire. 

This time was no different. The group of men screamed and thrashed on the sand as Roy’s flames encased their bodies. 

“You monster!” One of them spat, his gaze on Roy. “You will burn in hell for what you’ve done. You have no soul!” 

Roy did not address the burning man, choosing instead to keep his focus on his own two feet. 

“You monster! You monst-”

“Mister Mustang? AH-”

A woman’s scream jolted Roy awake. He abruptly sat up in bed, out of breath and covered in a thick layer of sweat. It was just another nightmare. He was back in the real world where flames did not burst from his fingertips and the only people he killed had been at the wrong end of his gun. He was safe. 

The woman’s screams had now turned into frantic tears, commanding Roy’s attention once again. His eyes grew wide with horror as he noticed the blood splattered on his goose down comforter. 

He was back in the real world, alright, and had just punched one of the Hawkeye’s maids in the face, breaking her nose.


End file.
